


Cristiãn

by Horatio_Jaxx



Series: The Cassidy Tremaine Chronicles [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Action & Romance, Crime Fighting, F/M, Horror, Original Fiction, supernatural powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:34:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 123,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27120484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Horatio_Jaxx/pseuds/Horatio_Jaxx
Summary: NYPD Detective Cassidy Tremaine is in search of a serial killer who is gender indifferent with regards to the victim. Other than the manner of death, the only thing the victims had in common, when alive, were their good looks. When a survivor from decades past reports that a vampire did the killings, Detective Tremaine chooses to resist the thinking that such creatures exists despite supporting evidence. But when her examination of a strange group of affluent licentious ne’er-do-wells threatens to expose them to the world, the members make it their mission to bring her investigation to an end, even if that means killing Detective Cassidy Tremaine.It’s not blood that excites the vampire; it’s the container.
Series: The Cassidy Tremaine Chronicles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2098677
Kudos: 1





	1. Exposition

The raid had been calculated to commence when the sun was directly overhead—and so it began. One-hundred and twenty-three horsemen descended upon a village that consisted of 129 dwellings and structures. Many of the raiders wore the various emblems of seven distant Lords with fiefdoms adjacent to this outlying, unbounded and largely lawless territory. With more than two dozen hounds racing under foot of their steeds, the raiders fanned out and steered themselves towards the dwellings at the broad front of the village along the nearest perimeter. Inhabitants within the fields adjacent to the village began screaming out the alarm of the raiders approach as they fled toward the believed security of the village center.

Screams, shouts and barking was soon heard throughout the community as raiders and dogs savagely tore through the village. Five-hundred and seventeen hapless inhabitants were surprised by the sudden appearance of the raiders. Most of the villagers put up no resistance, and in return were not immediately targeted. Those inhabitants that took up arms were quickly killed without pity. The raiders routinely ran into the homes of the villagers and herded out all inhabitants found within, and without exception, tore apart the interior of the dwelling as they searched for hidden spaces. After completing a search, the building was torched as they left.

Outside of the desecrated dwellings, horrified villagers were herded together and examined, one after the other. Torches were held close to their faces for several seconds. The hounds that came with the raiders assessed their scent. Cuts were slashed across their cheeks or foreheads. When the reaction they were looking for from the villagers failed to occur, the captive was released. Frightened villagers that passed these tests fled the village with the raucous encouragement of the raiders.

At one dwelling, a violent scuffle erupted and a large, male raider tumbled out of the front doorway. Seconds later, another raider came flying out of the open doorway and fell to the ground dead. Immediately, a young female villager raced out of the clay and straw dwelling screaming with rage, her face contorted into a fearsome scowl. With the beginnings of fangs and elongated fingernails clearly visible, she turned away from the destruction happening in the village and took off at a sprint. Her pace was far beyond that of any normal human. A raider on horseback attempted to stop her, but she evaded him with a sudden zigzag maneuver. With her escape route unblocked by men on horseback, she was promptly encumbered by a nearby hound. The animal slammed into the young female and gripped into her gown which did nothing more than break her stride. She grabbed the hound by the skin of its neck and tossed it into the air with a flick of her wrist. A second and third hound caught up to her and bit into her arm and gown.

In the time it took this physically abnormal female villager to dislodge herself from the two hounds, a raider on horseback raced up and threw a net over her. As soon as she turned her attention to this new impediment, an arrow from a crossbow thump into her back. She showed no sign of injury. As she continued to struggle with the netting, a second and third arrow punctured her side and shoulder without impeding her efforts to flee. While she struggled with the net and arrows, the three hounds reinitiated their attacks. The abnormal female growled with rage at the nuisance the animals presented. She knew the netting would be little trouble if only the hounds would leave her be. As she struggled with the netting, a mounted raider raced in, reached down and grabbed the net. He urged his horse into a gallop, pulling the young female villager off her feet and then dragging her along behind his horse.

As the abnormal female was being dragged away, a middle-aged man and woman begged a nearby raider to spare their daughter’s life. They insisted that she had done no harm to anyone and that she was a kindhearted girl, but their pleas were given no heed. The raider turned his horse about to better observe the battle with the young woman. Several minutes later, exhausted by her struggle in the noon day sun, the abnormal young woman went limp. Moments later her head was severed from her body by a single stroke from a broad sword. Her remains were then tossed into a dwelling that had yet to be put to the torch. 

Armed with swords, daggers, war hammers, maces, pikes, axes, nets and crossbows the raiders fought with four additional abnormal humans within the village. All four were subdued after an exhausting fight. Nine raiders were killed for the effort. While these battles were happening, seven villagers were found in hidden compartments inside two dwellings and three sheds. In all appearances, these villagers looked to be dead and were not wakened by the disturbances going on around them. The raiders did not stop to examine them. The sleepers were staked through their hearts moments after they were found and beheaded shortly after that. Their remains were dumped in the same structure as the young abnormal female beheaded earlier. When the last of the searching and fighting within the village was over, the last structure with the beheaded corpses inside was set ablaze.

The surviving inhabitants of the village, without exception, fled the carnage. The bulk of them hurried down the one road that led away from the community. Carrying what little belongings they could gather, and leading what livestock they could prevail to follow them, the villagers trekked down the road in a long line. Not far beyond the outskirts of the village, 27 raiders and 5 hounds waited as the procession of villagers passed by. Those villagers that did not have a cut across their face or arm and had a suspicious look about them were pulled out of line by the raiders for closer examination. All were found to be of no interest to them. On the other side of the village, more than a dozen abnormal residents of both sexes secretly streaked away from the battle. There were no raiders in this area to catch sight of their passing.

Shortly after the last dwelling was put to the torch, more than a dozen hounds picked up the scent of abnormal inhabitants leading away from the village in the opposite direction from the main road. With the encouragement of the raiders, the hounds took up the chase. In staggered groups, and on horseback, the raiders followed the sound of the barking hounds. Their trek led them across an open field and into the forest beyond. After a pursuit lasting more than ten minutes, two hounds came upon an exhausted abnormal male villager. They pounced upon him without hesitation. Temporarily energized by the attack of the hounds, the villager bashed the animals against a nearby tree, one after another. The hounds released their grips on the villager and fell to the ground writhing and whimpering in pain. A second later, three more hounds came into view, racing toward the villager with snarls and growls just ahead of four raiders in full gallop. The villager sprang up into a tree just in time to evade the angry hounds.

With the speed and agility of a cat, the villager climbed midway to the top of the tree in an effort to remain out of reach of the raiders. Shortly, the four raiders were beneath him. They quickly shouldered their crossbows and began targeting the villager with their arrows. The abnormal villager began leaping from branch to branch to evade their attacks. His efforts in the mid-day sun exhausted him. He was shortly pierced by an arrow, then a second and later a third. The wounds the arrows caused were not lethal to him; they only added to the continuous drain on his stamina from the sun. 

Three more raiders and two more hounds joined in the attack. Shortly after their arrival, a fourth arrow caught the villager at mid-leap from one limb to another. The abnormal villager reached out and grabbed a limb, but the strength in his wrist and hand failed him under the sudden strain of his body’s weight. Unable to maintain his grip, he fell. The hounds were upon him a second after his impact with the ground. Exhausted, he put up a weak fight. But despite his exhaustion, he managed to toss the animals aside. In the space of a few time that it took for him to dispense with the dogs, he was impaled with five more arrows. He stumbled back to the ground and the hounds were on him again. Exhausted beyond the ability to free himself from their attacks, the villager did little more than writhe under their assault. Convinced that the villager had nothing more to give to the fight, two of the raiders dismounted from their horses. After calling off the hounds, one of the raiders held the villager down with one foot on his chest and the second proceeded to sever his head from his torso with his broad sword. Elsewhere in the forest, two more abnormal villagers were being run to ground. They too met the same end. 

Further along in the hunt, 37 mounted raiders and 4 hounds gave chase to 19 abnormal villagers stretched out in a long line. Many of these abnormal villagers were too far back to see the person ahead of them. Despite this impediment, they all seemed to know where this run was going. The last abnormal villager was beyond the visual range of his pursuers, but the sound of the hounds could be heard in the distance. The abnormal villagers raced on at a speed slightly slower than the horses and hounds closing in on them. The direction of their flight gradually turned into an uphill run. The thickness of the forest trees nearly obscured from sight the range of mountains that loomed high above the treetops.

For the abnormal villagers, this place where they hoped to find safety from the raiders would have only taken them little more than two minutes to reach during a midnight run, but under the noon day sun, it was taking them more than ten minutes. Exhaustion shortly turned their run into a stagger. By the time they arrived at their destination, they could barely stand up to walk. In ones and twos, they crawled up a mound of boulders before descending into a large crack in the side of the mountain. When the last abnormal villager reached the opening, the raiders were just close enough to launch arrows at him. Out of desperation, he launched himself over the mound before tumbling down the steep slope beyond the mouth of the cave. The descent continued for more than 30 yards before leveling off into a large cavern with a wide pool of water in a depression on the far-right side. Three corridors that disappeared deeper into the mountain were on the far-left side. But none of this would have been visible to the normal eye. The cavern was darker than the black of night.

The raiders raced up to the cave opening and stopped even though four of their hounds continued their pursuit headlong into the cave. Their barking could be heard echoing back through the cave opening. Shortly, the barking changed into a chorus of growls and snarls. At that moment, it was clear to the raiders that the hounds were engaged with the abnormal villagers. The growls and snarls shortly transitioned into high pitched yelps of pain—and then there was silence.

The absence of light inside the confined space of the cave and the need to dismount from their horses in order to follow the abnormal villagers made the raiders reluctant to advance any farther. When the whole raiding force collected outside of the cave, the leaders agreed that the perpetual darkness inside was too much of a detriment for them to take. They also determined that their presence outside of the cave at night fall would also be dangerous to them should the abnormal villagers choose to come back out. Despite their concerns, the leaders of the raid did not want to leave with any of the abnormal villagers free to ever come out again. A solution for this dilemma was soon found and shortly executed.

It took much of the remaining daylight for 18 men to scale halfway up the side of the mountain above the cave, and with every tool in their possession, chisel free a massive boulder and send it crashing down before the mouth of the cave. The resulting avalanche broke rock and earth free from the mountainside that was thousands of times greater in weight than the initial boulder. When the mountain calmed and the dust and debris settled enough for eyes to peer through, it was clear to see that the slope at the base of the mountain extended out more than five times its original area, and that the cave opening had been buried beneath it. 

The year is 817 A.D. The location is a valley at the base of a mountain within the Carpathian Range. The dark ages are in the midst of its existence. Wars and plagues are commonplace scourges across the landscape of Europe. This was no less true in the region that was known as Dacia when it was under the rule of the Roman Empire. In the early to mid-1960s it is and has been known as Bulgaria, Serbia, Hungary, Ukraine, Moldova and Romania.  
*  
LINE BREAK  
*  
“Hey, in here…,” Grigore called out in his native Romanian language. 

Grigore Stefanescu was one of two civil engineers and three construction workers who were investigating the subsurface area along a proposed section of a highway route. A superficial examination of the area gave Grigore’s employer reason to believe that there might be a need for retaining structures for a highway in this area. It was their job to discover exactly what was going on underneath the slope at the base of this particular mountain. It took them two days to conclude that runoff from the mountain was flowing into a cavern beneath the slope they were exploring and draining out from there some place further down the mountainside. Their concern was for the size and structural stability of the cavern. It took them another three days to dig out the opening of the cave that the water was draining into. Three of them had been exploring the cave for little more than a quarter of an hour when Grigore shouted his summons. 

“What is it?” Petre Vasile asked with a huff. 

Petre was the other engineer on the team. He was also senior to Grigore. Jogging a little, he reached Grigore in short-order. His arrival was hampered by the lack of lamplight in the cave. 

“Look,” Grigore returned as he panned his flashlight down a long section of the small cavity in front of them. 

Petre had no idea what he was looking for. He suspected Grigore had only seen a rodent as he kept his light pointed at the ground. Petre followed Grigore’s light with his own flashlight but could see nothing moving. He was all the more confused by Grigore’s slow pan forward and back along the length of the cavity. He was still trying to make sense of what he was looking for when Serghei came up behind them. 

“Did you find something?” Serghei asked as he tossed his light around the room. 

“Don’t you see it?” Grigore challenged as he brought his cone of light to a spot on the floor that was less than ten feet away from them. 

Petre and Serghei gave the area several seconds of intense study. Their first impression was that they were looking at the cave floor. Then they thought the stone floor was overly crumpled and even had folds in it. 

“What is that?” Serghei questioned himself, mostly. 

Petre stepped closer and stooped so that he could give it a closer examination. He soon noticed hair and then the emaciated head attached to it. 

“Is that a body?” Petre asked with surprise. 

Shortly behind his question, Petre used his flashlight to follow the row of bodies laid out in front of him. Serghei did the same along the opposite side. It took only a few seconds for them to understand that the side of the cavity they were in was lined with the remains of more than a dozen bodies. As this reality dawned on them, they began moving further down into that section of the cave for a closer examination of each cadaver. 

“Look at this,” Serghei called out a minute later. 

Grigore and Petre moved to Serghei’s side and directed their flashlights at the same section of the cave wall. 

“What language is that?” Petre asked with a frown. 

“Latin,” Grigore answered in a word. 

Petre was awed by that report. Serghei was confused by it. 

“When did anyone speak Latin in Romania?” Serghei wondered out loud. 

“During the reign of the Roman Empire,” Grigore explained at a volume just above a whisper. 

Petre concluded that this find was beyond his pay grade and did not wish to disturb it without orders from someone higher up. He, Grigore and Serghei spent another twenty minutes examining the remains and searching for anything else to be found there. Concluding that they had seen it all, they moved on to recording their find into transportable data. They spent the next hour photographing everything within that section of the cave. 

The survey location was fairly remote by twentieth century Romanian standards. To avoid the two-hour commute to and from the site, it had been decided that the team would stay in campers to hasten the multi-day dig. Because of the late hour of the day, Petre thought it wiser to wait for the midday courier tomorrow rather than drive to the nearest telephone to report their findings. He knew no one would be in the office by the time he got to a telephone. 

Petre and his team used the last of the daylight hours to string up lights in the cave. In the cavity where the bodies were located, he positioned two flood lamps attached to adjustable tripods. By the time they were done, the sun had disappeared below the horizon by two hours, and Petre and his team had just settled down inside their camper-trailer for the night.  
*  
LINE BREAK  
*  
The consciousness of nineteen abnormal villagers began to stir more than five hours after the sun disappeared below the horizon. The sounds of voices and footsteps were the first things to disrupt their dreams. Even though the sounds and activities registered in their growing consciousness, their bodies continued to display death. Their eyes did not move. Their muscles did not twitch. There was no involuntary movement anywhere. There were no indications of circulatory or respiratory functions, and yet despite these seemingly nonexistent living indicators, the mental processes occurring in their heads gradually stimulated their consciousness. Sounds that would have awakened a normal human within minutes were still coalescing in the minds of the abnormal villagers several hours later. 

The sounds that registered within their minds blurred together across a wide space of time which gradually transitioned into their next sensation: heat. Physical sensations and the intensity of those feelings were also slow to enter their awareness. Because of the slow progression to awareness, sensations never generated concern or alarm ahead of an abnormal villagers’ awakening consciousness. It was this slow coalescence of cognitive awareness while the changes in sensations were happening that ultimately convinced them to push their minds toward full consciousness. Awakening was always a gradual process, and all the abnormal villagers came to the end of this particular awakening within the same 3-minute time frame. 

The floor of the cave began to come alive. Everywhere along the sides of the cave there was movement. Shortly, a lone figure began to crawl away from the two lamps at the entrance to the cavity that were flooding light into the entire area. Slowly, one-by-one, all 19 figures crawled then, gaining their footing, stumbled and staggered away from the glaring floodlights while shielding their eyes. It took a little more than ten minutes for the emaciated forms to make their way to the wall of the cavity that was farthest from the lamps. Instinctively, they huddled together against that far wall with their backs to the light. 

The abnormal villagers huddled together like that for several minutes before one of their number began to move backward toward the lamps. The gaunt and almost skeletal figure, completely unrecognizable as a man, slowly and cautiously continued toward the lamps while favoring the left side of the cave. He did all he could to keep his head and eyes shielded beneath his hunched over back and shoulders. He stooped down onto his knees when he came within a few feet of the lamp to the left of the entrance. Taking a moment to refortify his resolve, he began to inch back closer to the lamp. He shielded his eyes from the light with his right hand as he peeked back at the lamp. He stopped when he was close enough to reach out and touch the lamp. Then, after a few seconds of deliberation and second thoughts, he brought his left arm up to shield his eyes and swung back violently with his right, striking the lamp halfway up its stem. He quickly ducked his head beneath his arms in a protective huddle as the lamp crashed to the ground; the light instantly went out. The abnormal male waited a moment to make sure that some secondary event would not happen. His fear was that the strange light might somehow set him on fire. He shortly became convinced that nothing more was going to happen, so now encouraged, he began moving backward across the cavity’s entrance toward the second lamp. As soon as he was close enough, he struck the second lamp with the same ferocity and was rewarded with the same result. 

The sudden darkness that enveloped the cavity caused the abnormal humans to visibly relax. Slowly, the other 18 abnormal humans turned about to examine the cavity they were in. The soft glow of the light coming from the outer corridor produced a dim illumination. It also had the effect of causing their eyes to glint. It looked like 18 pairs of cat eyes reflecting the diffuse light coming in from the cavity opening. Slowly and quietly these eyes began to move forward. After a brief time, the remaining abnormal humans joined the lone figure standing at the entrance to the cavity. Together, slowly and cautiously, they moved out into the corridor, each with a hand shielding their eyes from the light coming off the lamps strung about the ceiling of the main cavern.  
*  
LINE BREAK  
*  
Petre, Grigore and Serghei were in varied stages of sleep in their bunk beds at the front of the camper-trailer when a disturbance outside aroused them. The sound of something falling to the ground was just loud enough to be heard over the constant hum of the portable generator in the distance. Grigore and Serghei took note of it and looked towards the window the sound came through. Petre was too deep into his sleep to hear anything. Serghei, more so than Grigore, was concerned that something had happened to some piece of equipment out there. The resulting silence behind the disturbance led them believe that some small animal was moving about in the camp. Shortly, they gave it no further thought and went back to the task of trying to fall asleep. 

In the back half of the camper, Andrei Dobrescu and Mihal Parasca were playing cards at the table there. Their conversation and the soft music playing on the radio drowned out the sound of the first disturbance. This was not true of the second disturbance that occurred a few minutes later. 

“What was that?” Mihal asked with a curious look toward the camper door. 

Andrei’s response came as he moved to the window on the opposite side from where he was sitting. 

“I don’t know. It sounds like something fell.” 

Andrei began examining the area that he could see outside the window when Serghei opened the bedroom cabin door and hurried into the galley area with his pants in his hand. 

“What’s going on with the lights?” Serghei inquired while climbing into his pants.

Grigore and Petre were slow to follow Serghei into the galley. Their hands were empty; their expressions were confused; and they were still in their underwear. Despite their appearance, they were just as curious about the disturbances. The silence and the darkness in the bedroom cabin enhanced the sound of the disturbance outside. The sound of something crashing and the sudden loss of light from one of the flood lamps near the camper was unmistakable within the darkened room.

“Two of the lamps are down, and it looks like the lights in the cave are out.” Andrei reported as he continued to look out the window. “There’s someone out there,” he continued a moment later with a lack of confidence.

“I bet it’s some kids,” Mihal responded just before pushing aside the curtains on the opposite side of the window from Andrei.

“What would kids be doing way up here,” Grigore pondered out loud.

“It doesn’t matter who it is,” Serghei angrily growled while fastening his pants. “I’m not letting anything happen to that equipment.”

Serghei turned about, pushed past Petre and Grigore and went back into the bedroom cabin. Shortly after he disappeared into the room, there was third crash, and the light that had been blazing through the camper window from outside went out.

“Damn them, they busted the last lamp,” Mihal announced with frustration.

In total, they had five flood lamps attached to adjustable tripod fixtures. Two of these lamps were put in the cave along with a string of work lights. The loss of the last flood lamp limited all outside illumination to the light coming from the camper.

“Did you see who did it?” Petre asked as he moved to look out the window.

“It’s too dark now,” Mihal returned as he continued straining to see out the window.

“I think there’s more than one person out there,” Andrei suggested as he cupped his hands up to the window and looked out between them.

“Come-on,” Serghei commanded as he pushed back into the galley now dressed and with a two-foot long metal pipe in one hand and a flashlight in the other.

Mihal and Andrei were quick to react to this command. Mihal turned to a cabinet, removed a couple flashlights from a drawer and followed Serghei and Andrei out the camper door. Petre and Grigore’s reaction to this turn of events was to hurry back into the bedroom cabin to get dressed. They were interrupted by a prolonged scream of pain and terror from outside. It was clear that it was a man. Petre and Grigore raced to the open door of the camper, half dressed, and stopped to peer into the blackness. The screaming stopped shortly after they reached the doorway, but two flashlights could be seen bobbing about in the distance. They could hear Mihal shouting out, “Serghei! Serghei!” in the distance. His last call stopped abruptly. After a brief silence, there was another terrifying scream of pain. This had a different pitch than the first. The light of a second flashlight disappeared into the darkness. Again, there was silence for a brief time and then another scream mixed with a call for help. Petre and Grigore continued to look out from the door of the camper. 

“Get a flashlight,” Petre urged with a glance toward Grigore. 

Grigore raced to the same cabinet where Mihal got his flashlights and hurriedly searched inside the first two drawers he opened. He was shortly stopped by the sound of someone outside shouting for help. 

“This way, hurry,” Petre called out into the darkness while stepping onto the top step of the camper. 

Petre was watching the last flashlight swing up and down as it came quickly towards him. Twice more he called out to the person carrying the light to hurry. Shortly after the second call, the flashlight flew up into the air then fell to the ground while a prolonged scream blared out then quickly trailed away. Moments later, all was silent. Petre froze, then turned to Grigore with a shocked expression. 

“Flashlight!” Petre shouted with a stunned look on his face. 

Grigore turned, pulled open another cabinet door and briefly searched it before finding a large heavy flashlight. After taking it into hand and turning it on, he raced back towards Petre.

“Here,” Grigore called out as he extended the flashlight to Petre.

Petre reached for the flashlight, but before he could take it, he was snatched off his feet and up onto the roof of the camper. Grigore was shocked by speed of his disappearance. He jumped back and looked up to the ceiling in response to the sound of struggling and growling on the roof. Suddenly, a figure appeared at the door of the camper. Its form was gaunt and skeletal. Its clothing and flesh were dirty. Its skin and muscles looked stretched and paper thin. Its eyes were wide open with shimmering silver pupils and blood shot whites. Instinctively, Grigore directed the flashlight at it. When the light struck the figure, it screeched and brought its arms up to shield its eyes and then cringed to the floor. Grigore suddenly became flooded with terror. He fell backward, and instinctively reached for the floor to break his fall. The flashlight, still gripped in his hand, threw its light across the floor as he stumbled. Freed from the direct glare of the flashlight, the figure turned its head to look at Grigore again from beneath the shelter of its arms. The overhead lights continued to bother the ragged figure, but despite the light, it started to crawl toward Grigore determined to reach him. The figure extended its hand toward Grigore. In a desperate effort to stay out of reach, Grigore scurried back away from it and then directed the flashlight’s full glare into its face. The figure screeched in pain once again, turned away and brought its arms back to its head to shield its eyes. Grigore used the time this created to push himself further away from the figure. Seconds later, a second gaunt skeletal form appeared in the doorway. Grigore noted that the second figure was equally distressed by the light inside the camper and chose not to come inside. With its hands held up in front of its face, the figure peered into the camper through the slits between its fingers. The sight of the second ragged figure brought Grigore’s terror to new heights. He began to scramble further back into the camper. Relieved from the glare of the flashlight, the first figure renewed its pursuit of Grigore. His hand came within a few inches of catching his foot. While trying to keep the flashlight focused on the first figure, Grigore pushed himself to the far end of the camper. In that same moment, he heard an angry growl from the second figure at the doorway. The distorted sound was raspy and guttural. Despite its outburst, the second figure was still reluctant to dare the lights in the camper, but the first figure still tried to get its hands on its prey. Grigore quickly reached up, grabbed the lamp attached to the drafting table next to him, pulled it down into his lap and switched it on. He extended the lamp’s light out away from him and into the face of the figure scrambling toward him. The figure screamed with pain, pushed away from it and turned its head away from the light. A second later, the first figure got up and bolted away from the lights inside the camper and back out into the pitch-black night. The second figure followed the lead of the first and scurried back into the darkness. For the next few seconds, Grigore listened to the sound of movement on the roof; and then it stopped. For several seconds more, he listened to intermittent cries of pain in the distance; and then it stopped. For the next several hours, he listened to silence. When the sun rose over the eastern horizon the next day, Grigore was still on the floor of the camper. The dimming flashlight was in one hand; the desk lamp was in the other.


	2. Dig

It had been raining, off and on, for most of the day. The weather system responsible for it was expected to release its last drop by mid-day tomorrow. The downpour was not uncommon for the month of March on Staten Island, but the weight of this three-day deluge was decidedly heavier than the norm for the area. The temperature was a cool 42 degrees and was not expected to go higher anytime during the remainder of the day. It was just past two o’clock on a Wednesday afternoon in the year 2016. Police Detective 2nd Grade, Alan Mercer and his partner, Detective 3rd Grade, Cassidy Tremaine, were on their way to the site where a partially decomposed corpse was found. 

Detectives Mercer and Tremaine worked out of the 122nd Precinct and had been partners there for the past six months. This was not an uncomfortable teaming for either of them. A burly 53-year-old veteran officer, Detective Alan Mercer found most people he interacted with at the job to be agreeable with him. To him, people were a regular source of amusement. Even criminals had to be especially heinous to induce an expression of anger or disgust from him. On top of that, Alan had no preferences or prejudices regarding the makeup or manner of his partner. His present partner was particularly agreeable to him because Cassidy endured his perpetual good humor with a smile and playful banter.

On the other side of this partnership, 29-year-old Detective Cassidy Tremaine was driven to be the best that she could be. This caused her to be highly competitive with others. She had little patience for anyone who hindered or obstructed her efforts. This was especially true if the reason behind the interference was based on her gender. Winning, excelling and proving her worth was the preoccupation that governed the decisions she made when it came to her career. All other input was just external noise and something to be ignored. Her sensitivity to gender biases was the reason Cassidy found Alan agreeable. He gave little notice to her sex. As long as she was a comfortable fit socially, he could not care less. 

Alan’s good nature and tendency toward finding the whimsy in things made for a natural disguise when he wanted to conceal his profession. Ingratiating himself with suspects and witnesses before displaying his badge was an artifice that he had used occasionally in the past. This did not make him an exceptional detective, or even above average, but it did accrue him more confidential informants than most other detectives. The deficiency that made him less than a standout detective was in his tendency to give up on a case. He was not as driven to make an arrest as were other high-performance detectives. If a trail went cold, he was more inclined than many to accept it as the end of the investigation and then redirect his attention to another case. This failing was another reason he and Cassidy were a good fit. 

Cassidy was gradually turning into a high-performance detective. Her drive to be the best made closing all her case files with an arrest a compulsion. She was the reason for a noticeable improvement in Alan’s arrest and conviction record. With her assist, his numbers were up by ten percent over the six months before she became his partner. His new numbers had him seeing smooth sailing through the next seventeen months, at which time, he expected to have reached the end of his 30th year as an NYPD police officer when he planned to retire. 

“Ten will get you twenty that it’s just some homeless bum,” Alan challenged while scanning through the list of emails on his smartphone. 

“What makes you say that?” Cassidy asked without looking away from the road ahead. 

Between the two of them it was customary for Cassidy to drive. This did not come about by edict or request. It simply worked best this way over time. Cassidy’s quick and eager movements usually got her to the car first, and Alan silently conceded that her enthusiasm should be behind the wheel of the vehicle. 

“Who would carry a body half a mile into the woods?” Alan countered. 

“Well, it could be that the victim was alive when he or she went out there,” Cassidy disputed with an air of indifference. 

“You could be right,” Alan returned with equal indifference. “But I still think it’s going to be some old wino, and it’s not like we don’t have better things to do with our time.” 

“Your sensitivity is amazing, Alan,” Cassidy returned with a snide smile. 

“Why should I be sensitive toward some old drunk who has created paperwork we’re going to be filling out for the remainder of the afternoon.” 

Cassidy had no response other than a silent laugh. Her amusement was due to the fact that she would end up doing all the paperwork and Alan would sit nearby, do no work and banter with anyone within earshot of his voice. She had no objection to this arrangement. She preferred doing the bulk of the paperwork, and she did not want Alan working cases without her presence. This had everything to do with Alan’s tendency to overlook things—or questions—that she found of interest. These things almost always turned out to be nothing of significance, but the perfectionist in Cassidy refused to allow any stone to go unturned. 

They drove for several more minutes before arriving at their destination, the Davis Wildlife Refuge off Travis Avenue in the Staten Island Greenbelt. The point of entry into this wetland woodland area was marked by a cluster of police cars, a crime scene unit van and a handful of people moving about the vicinity. Cassidy parked the car in the closest available location within this group. She and Alan exited the vehicle after the engine stopped. Alan was wearing his preferred combination of a slightly crumpled, thigh length, black raincoat over a well-worn dark gray suit and tie. Cassidy wore a long, toffee colored trench coat over a light gray pantsuit with a white, tieless man’s dress shirt. She preferred a variation of a long overcoat and pantsuit as her normal work attire. 

Alan and Cassidy slowly trekked to the location of the body. They were not dressed for the wet, soggy and, in places, muddy terrain. Carefully assessing every step consumed more than ten minutes as they push their way through the thick brush beneath a canopy of trees. Alan was trailing behind Cassidy by several yards and was noticeably winded when they arrived at a clearing that was obviously created by a recent and heavy runoff of water. Several uniformed police officers, crime scene officers in fatigues and three park enforcement patrol rangers stood on the bank of this wash where the barely recognizable remains of a human form lay exposed. 

The first officer on the scene intercepted Cassidy and Alan before they could reach the body. He reported that a park ranger found the body when he came to examine the disposition of the area after the recent rains. He also passed on the ranger’s observation that this area was too dense with wilderness for a park visitor to just wander into. 

“No information on name, sex and age of the victim or the cause of death, but CSU has only been here for a few minutes.”

Cassidy broke away from the officer after hearing his report. She turned her attention to the CSU Officer stooping over the body and began to carefully cross the muddy ground toward him. Cassidy produced a computer tablet and a stylus from the large, lower inside pocket of her trench coat. 

“What can you tell me, Don?” Cassidy asked in a familiar tone. 

Donald Stafford was a 17-year veteran of the NYPD, a 44-year-old husband and father to 3 children, and he was the senior CSU Officer on site. He had an eleven-year acquaintance with Alan, but his association with Cassidy was just a few months old. Despite their relatively new association, Don Stafford was comfortably familiar with Cassidy’s impatient manner. He looked up from the nearly skeletal remains he was examining just long enough to notice Cassidy’s presence and then turned back to it as he responded to her question. 

“Detective Petrucci, how have you been?” 

“It’s Tremaine,” Cassidy corrected. 

“Oh yeah,” Don returned with surprise. “I did hear that you threw off your married name.” Don pondered a moment before speaking again. “Is that going to be a problem for you and your children—two different last names?” 

“I doubt it. I’m just mom to them,” she replied matter-of-factly. “For me it’s no problem at all. I never cared for Cassidy Petrucci anyway,” she continued with an emphasis on Petrucci. “The only reason why I gave up Tremaine was because my father would’ve had a heart attack if I didn’t.” 

Don gave her retort a nod of approval. 

“Cassidy Tremaine does have a nicer ring to it,” Don concurred with a smile. “Welcome back.” 

Cassidy gave the greeting a nod and a modest smile as Alan moved in beside her.

“Hey Alan, how’s Helen and the boys?” 

“They’re alive and well, last I heard,” Alan answered with a smile. “Did I tell you that John’s got a football scholarship with Boston College? 

“Hey, that’s great,” Don blurted out with a large smile.

“And you, how’s Cheryl and Teresa?” Alan reciprocated. 

“Teresa is growing like a weed,” Don returned. “Cheryl is doing fine. She can’t seem to stop herself from adding new decorations to the house,” he concluded with a confused look and a shake of his head. 

“Hey, it’s a new house,” Alan countered with a grin. “Cheryl’s not going to stop until she feels that everything is perfect. Trust me, I’m speaking from experience.” 

Cassidy allowed their conversation to proceed to this point because she knew they were good friends, but experience told her that now was the time to change the subject. She knew how long they could talk when they got on a subject that they both were interested in. 

“Don, the corpse…?” Cassidy delicately interrupted. 

Don switched his attention back to Cassidy for a second and then down to the corpse on the ground. 

“Female,” Don reported, “brunette, no ID on her person. You’re going to need the Medical Examiner to confirm this, but my guess would be that she was in her mid-twenties at the time of death, most likely Caucasian, five-six give or take half an inch or so. She’s been dead for more than two years and maybe as long as four, and someone definitely buried her here.” 

Don paused momentary before continuing on with his report. 

“If she was killed here, and I emphasize the word if, then there is almost no chance I’m going to find any evidence of the event. Not unless the killer wrote a confession, put it in a watertight container and tied it to a tree.” 

“Cause of death,” Cassidy queried while still taking notes. 

“You’re going to have to get that from the Medical Examiner as well” Don answered. “Because I have no idea.” 

Cassidy took a moment to assimilate the information she had just gathered. She was surprised to hear that a deliberately discarded body was not showing some signs of physical trauma. It took her a moment to accept that this was due to the corpse’s multiple years in the ground. She then switched her tablet to camera mode and began taking pictures of the remains and its surroundings. 

“So, I take it you don’t believe she was killed here?” Alan questioned into the silence. 

“She’s not dressed for this terrain,” Don reported softly. “My guess would be that she was killed somewhere else.” 

This final report caught Cassidy’s attention unlike anything said before. She stepped away from Don and the corpse he was kneeled over and began to view the terrain with a whole new level of interest. The heavily forested wilderness had a look of desolation about it in the aftermath of the three-day rainstorm. Much of the underbrush had been washed away along a track that ran through the area. Several trees had also fallen victim to the torrent of water that spilled through the vicinity. Questions and suppositions were racing through her mind. Alan immediately noticed Cassidy’s distant contemplative expression. It was not a look unfamiliar to him, and he had more than a suspicion about its origins. 

“Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking,” Alan queried after moving up beside Cassidy. 

“Yeah,” Cassidy returned with a nod while eyeing the terrain. 

“This is going to be a big waste of time,” Alan countered. “But it’s your call, Detective.” 

As they spoke, Don stood up and moved over to Alan’s side. 

“Okay detectives, how do we proceed?” Don queried with a knowing expression. 

“We dig,” Cassidy answered after a slight hesitation. 

“Where? How much?” Don asked with no small hint of exasperation. 

Alan had no response. He knew that anything he said would likely conflict with Cassidy’s plan. She was, after all, making this decision. 

“Start from here and fan out upstream,” Cassidy began after a moment of thought. “Dig into any location that looks like a possible grave site. If you don’t find anything, move on to another spot. Keep digging until I say stop,” she finished emphatically. 

“That’s a lot of area, Detective,” Don exclaimed with a shrug. “That body could have been washed down here from several hundred yards away, or more. The water runoff has made a surface scan useless. I’m going to need to get a couple of cadaver dogs in here and a couple of dozen pair of extra eyes and feet. And even with all of that there’s no guarantee that we’ll find anything, even if it’s there.” 

“Do what you have to do,” Cassidy returned with a sigh. 

“You know we’re going to be out here most of the night?” Don queried with a dejected look. 

Cassidy gave no response, so after a moment of silence Alan spoke for her. 

“She knows.” 

Don threw up his hands in resignation as he turned and walked away. Before he could take three strides, he was stopped by Cassidy’s final words. 

“And can you see about getting some hot coffee out here?”  
*  
LINE BREAK  
*  
“What’s wrong?” James Petrucci asked after taking an incoming call to his cellphone. 

Cassidy had just passed her fourth hour at the dig site when she began her call to her ex-husband. She knew that she would have to call him eventually, but reluctance caused her to wait until the last minute. 

“Nothing is wrong,” Cassidy declared with displeasure in her voice. “I need you to go to Sarah’s, get the kids and take them to my parents.” 

“Why?” James challenged. 

“I’m going to be working late tonight, maybe all night,” Cassidy explained as though there was nothing more to be said on the subject. 

“Well I can’t tonight. I have plans.” 

His response surprised Cassidy. She did not need or want James to pick up their kids from her neighbor’s home, but she did feel obligated to give this time to him. The realization that he did not want it was unexpected. She knew James to be an affectionate father. It was his infidelity that destroyed their marriage. 

“It’s just thirty minutes out of your evening,” Cassidy complained.

“I have plans,” James argued. “Get someone else.” 

Suddenly Cassidy became suspicious of these plans that were preventing him from picking up his children and driving them two miles to her parent’s home. She could not imagine anything he had to do on a Wednesday night that could be that important. This thought provoked her next question. 

“What plans? Don’t you have to be at work in the morning?” 

“Why don’t you get your parents or one of your many relatives to do it?” James asked in a tone that suggested he was weary of the conversation. 

“Because you’re their father, James,” Cassidy bellowed back with astonishment. “I just need you to take a little time out of your life and act like it.” 

Cassidy knew that she was invested in the argument more than the request. It was easy enough to inconvenience her father, or her brother Jared, into performing the task, but his resistance angered her into pushing it onto him. 

“I’m busy tonight. I have an appointment.” 

His third attempt to push this unspecified business between himself and his children riled Cassidy near to a growl. She could think of only one thing that could be so urgent to him at this time in the evening. The fact that he refused to name it brought back the sense of betrayal she felt in the final months of their marriage. 

“An appointment?” Cassidy questioned with incredulity. “What’s her name? Is this appointment so important that you can’t postpone it for thirty minutes to take care of you kids?” 

“As I recall, you’re the one who got custody of the kids,” James argued back. “My weekend starts nine days from now.” 

“That’s just great, James,” Cassidy conceded with exasperation. “Don’t let me guilt you into feeling any responsibility for your own children.” 

James hesitated just long enough to blow off his feeling of annoyance, and then he spoke with forced civility. 

“Okay, you win, Cassidy, as usual. I’ll be a good little father and take the kids to your parents. Don’t worry about a thing. Have a nice evening advancing your career at the expense of your kids.” 

The implication that she was not a good mother by virtue of her job had an immediate effect on Cassidy. This was a repetitive accusation from more than one man in her life, and it was a sensitive subject for her. Cassidy hated the idea that she was obliged to give up her ambitions and dedicate the whole of her life to raising her kids. The very suggestion enraged her the most when it came from James. 

“You go to hell!” 

Cassidy was not sure that James heard her last remark. She heard the dial-tone after she spoke her last word. After pocketing her phone, she took a moment to compose herself. She then turned about and stepped over to where Alan was watching the dig. 

“So, you and the ex are still barking at each other?” Alan queried without looking toward his partner.

“Off and on, mostly we don’t speak at all,” Cassidy confessed hesitantly. 

Emboldened by her reply, Alan put on a smile, turned his gaze to Cassidy and in preparation to prompt her for more information. 

“So, what did he do now?” 

Cassidy huffed, reluctant to speak on the subject, but her need to vent propelled a response. 

“Okay, I offered him a chance to spend a little time with his children, and he tried to blow them off so he could go screw some bimbo.” 

Cassidy took a moment to seethed over this revelation before continuing with a qualifier. 

“I mean; I could probably understand if she was someone who was important to him,” she expressed with a toss of her hands.

“How do you know that she’s not important to him?” Alan asked with a barely contained grin.

“Because he never said her name,” Cassidy rifled back with annoyance in her voice. “He didn’t even admit that he was going on a date. He tried to pass her off as an appointment, like he has some financial business to take care of on a Wednesday night. Trust me, the only person James Petrucci is in love with is himself.” 

“You never know; he fell in love with you,” Alan challenged without conviction. 

Cassidy rolled her eyes at Alan and shook her head with a smirk on her face before responding to that idea. 

“That was before he became a member of SWAT. His ego is too big for one woman now.” 

“He sounds like a real prince,” Alan quickly said with a chuckle.

“Once upon a time,” Cassidy responded introspectively. 

Alan had never met James. Cassidy’s divorce was more than a year old when they became partners. What he did know of James came through others, Cassidy more so than anyone else. He made gentle attempts to pry into her personal life whenever it tickled his fancy. He had learned from experience that she was most talkative on the subject of James when he had done something new to annoy her. He also knew when Cassidy had reached the end of her emotional blow, and this was that time. He allowed Cassidy’s rumination to be the final word on the subject and then turned his attention to what was happening in the muddy field in front of them. Cassidy was ahead of him in this regard. They were a few minutes into their observation when the portable flood lights switched on. 

“It’s going to be a long day,” Alan mumbled with a sigh. 

“If you didn’t want to do this you could have said something,” Cassidy insisted. 

‘No, no, if my partner wants to dig up a lot of wilderness searching for unspecified human remains then it’s my job to support her,” Alan returned with insincere humility. 

“I’m being thorough,” Cassidy countered with more than a tinge of exasperation. 

Alan gave her response a laugh and then settled down to wait. 

It took another half an hour for the sun to disappear below the western horizon, and the excavation site quickly went black from its absence. Despite the night, the site was flooded with manmade light. Beneath the lamps that illuminated the field, nine CSU officers and a dozen uniformed officers combed through the area turning over anything that looked remotely suspicious. At the front end of this group, two uniformed officers were following the lead of a pair of dogs on leashes. Their search took them up the path of the wash that had raced through the area the day before. The flood lights were repeatedly repositioned to follow the search. 

This procession inched along for more than three hours when one of the dogs began barking and pawing at the ground. Cassidy and Alan took note of the barking animal, but neither of them had much hope that it would be anything of significance. The dogs had taken interest in small areas in the past, but they soon moved on after a brief time. This current interest shortly became a persistent dig by the animal. Several CSU officers converged on the location where the dog was digging and took over the task. Cassidy and Alan now took on a new level of interest, but it was not great enough to make them want to go out into the muddy field where it was happening. After watching the dig from a distance for several minutes, one of the CSU officers called out the result of their efforts. 

“We’ve got a body here.” 

Cassidy was quick to venture out into quagmire to see what they had dug up. Alan followed several seconds behind and with more than a little reluctance. They both arrived in time to watch as the CSU officers continued to carefully unearth the human remains. They were several minutes into this unearthing when the second dog began barking and frantically digging into the ground at a spot not far from where they were. 

“I think he found something,” exclaimed the uniformed officer holding the leash to the barking dog. 

Two CSU officers went to his location and began the task of unearthing what the dog found interesting. A minute later the CSU officer called out what they found. 

“We’ve got another body.”  
Cassidy and Alan looked away from the first dig and over to the second with surprise. They then turned their surprised expressions to each other. At that same moment, the first dog began barking and digging at another spot not far from the first two digs. 

“I think we have another one,” the handler of the dog called out. 

Cassidy and Alan took note of the officer and his dog, then Alan looked to his partner and said the first thing that popped into his head. 

“I’ll be damned.”


	3. All in the Family

It was nearly a quarter past 11 p.m. when Cassidy and Alan gave up on the search. Don Stafford was committed to rotating more officers in to scour the vicinity for another full day. He was under orders to search as much of this section of the wildlife refuge as he could within that time. Cassidy and Alan knew that any new find would be referred to them, but it was their suspicion that all the buried corpses in the area had been recovered. The last corpse was removed from the ground more than two hours earlier. All total, nine bodies were recovered and sent to the medical examiner’s office. When Cassidy and Alan left the excavation site, they planned to visit the medical examiner’s office next.

The entry point outside the wilderness refuge was gridlocked with onlookers and the news media. Two news helicopters hovered high overhead along with one police helicopter. The parade of bodies being hauled out of the wilderness refuge in medical examiner bags and M.E. vans had triggered intense interest in the area. When Cassidy and Alan arrived at their car, several reporters attempted to question them about their find in the refuge. They gave a standard ‘no comment’ reply and got into their vehicle. Between the mob of people and parked vehicles at the entrance and the collection of vehicles in the narrow street outside the refuge entry, all creating a traffic nightmare, they were unable to drive faster than a slow walk until they were a block away from the refuge entry point. It took them ten times longer to exit the refuge than it did to enter, despite the assistance of uniform police officers.

During the ride to the Medical Examiner’s Building, Alan was in a state of bewilderment about what had happen that night. It was by far the largest event to happen to him as a lead detective. He had participated in large investigations in the past as part of a team, but he had no direct responsibility for the outcome of those. The discovery of these bodies had him considering the effect this case would have on his record as a NYPD detective. Considering his upcoming retirement, he hoped the find would elevate him to Detective 1st Grade, but he suspected that would only occur if he solved the case. Alan had no illusion about that possibility happening soon. Experience told him that serial killer cases were never easy and that it often took years to find the perpetrator.

“This is big,” Alan began to chatter introspectively. “This is going to get us noticed by some higher-ups. We need to dot all our I’s and cross all our T’s on this one.”

Cassidy was in a completely different frame of mind than her partner. At the moment, she did not see nor care how this case would affect her career, and she cared nothing for the attention it was bound to attract. What she saw was the beginning of a puzzle that she had to figured out. It was her job. Figuring out what happened and why was what she was paid to do. Failure to accomplish that task would be for her a personal failure, not a public one. Her mind was already entertaining theories and analyzing scenarios. She paid no attention to Alan’s musing. Her brain was too busy guiding the course of the vehicle they were in and assessing the facts as she knew them so far. In short order, she had driven Alan and herself from the excavation site to the Medical Examiner’s Building and was out of the car with Alan, as usual, two steps behind.

“You know detectives, it’s not like we don’t have enough work to do already,” Dr. Ethan Coulter complained with snide humor.

Ethan was in the middle of examining one of the bodies from the excavation site when he glanced up and noticed Cassidy and Alan enter the autopsy lab. He turned his attention back down to the corpse on the table after his little comment.

“Hey, think of it as job security,” Alan countered without hesitation.

“I am a New York City Medical Examiner, Detective Mercer,” Ethan returned dryly. “How much more job security do I need?”

Alan laughed briefly before conceding with a, “yeah you got a point there.”

Cassidy ignored their exchange. When she entered the lab, her attention went straight to the desiccated corpse in front of Ethan. The doctor had removed enough extraneous material to provide her with a far better image of the remains. For the first time, she was able to identify the sex of the corpse by its physical features rather than by its clothing. It was clear to her that the body on the table was female. This new level of recognition stunned Cassidy for a moment. The body became a person and not just an excuse for an investigation. A need to get justice for this person quickly welled up within her and she expressed it with a sharp and humorless inquiry to the doctor.

“What can you tell me about the bodies?”

Ethan noticed that there was no jest in Cassidy’s inquiry, and he responded in a sober and professional manner.

“Not much, six of the nine remains are female. There is no obvious cause of death, but that is not completely surprising since all but one of the remains have or is in the process of transitioning into dry remains. The remains of the ninth is too far along in its decay for fingerprinting. What I can tell you, based upon my preliminary examination, is that they are adults but not elderly and their clothing appears to be rather high end. They’re over there.” 

Ethan pointed to a display of clothing on a long countertop along the wall. Cassidy hurried over to the countertop and began examining the clothing. Periodically, she would photograph the clothing with the camera in her tablet. Alan followed behind with less enthusiasm. While they examined the clothes, Ethan continued with his report.

“My guess is that the women are between the ages of 20 and 35 and the men between 25 and 45. The first victim died more than six years ago, and the last victim died about eight months ago.”

Cassidy questioned the doctor again without looking up from the tablet she was taking notes on and the clothing she was examining.

“When can we expect to know how they died?”

“Dr. McCullough may have something on that tomorrow before the end of the day. She’ll need to do a detailed examination that I don’t have the time to complete. If death was caused by some form of traumatic injury then she should be able to get some idea on that, if not the specifics.”

“So, we don’t know when, we don’t know how, and we don’t know who,” Alan enunciated sarcastically.

Cassidy ignored his remarks. Her thoughts were on notating all the labels on the victims’ clothes. Ethan responded without a second thought.

“Well, learning who they are shouldn’t be a problem,” he casually declared just before directing his attention back onto the corpse in front of him.

“Why is that?” Alan challenged for more details.

Ethan looked up with a start in response to Alan’s stern query.

“Oh well, they all took care of their teeth. I found loads of dental work, all totaled, and one of them had an operation—a broken arm. He’s got medical pins just below the left elbow.”

Cassidy and Alan spent another twenty-minutes taking notes on the available information, then they rushed off to the 122 Precinct. During their brief time at the station, they opened a new file on this investigation, logged the disposition of their efforts up to that moment and then set off for their respective homes. For Cassidy, that meant going home to an empty house. It was one a.m. when she climbed into her bed. At six a.m., she was up and preparing for another day. At 7:00 a.m., she was walking through the kitchen door of her parent’s home.

“Hi, Mom,” Cassidy greeted.

“Hi,” Margaret Tremaine acknowledged with a look over her shoulder. “You want some breakfast?”

Margaret was in the process of preparing the morning meal.

“No, just coffee,” Cassidy answered as she began to trudge her way through the kitchen with a large shopping bag full of clean clothes for her children. “Are the kids awake?”

“Just barely,” Margaret returned. “Are you taking the day off from work?”

“No, I’m going in late,” Cassidy answered in a tired voice. “I brought some clean clothes for the kids and I’ll take them to school before I go in.”

“You didn’t have to bring clothes for them. We still have the clothes they left behind from their last sleepover. They’re all washed and ironed.”

“I’m sorry, Mom, l forgot to get those.”

Cassidy was on her way out of the kitchen when she passed her father on the stairs to the upper level.

“Hi, Dad.”

Daniel Tremaine acknowledged the greeting with a grumbled, “good-morning.”

Daniel paid little notice to his daughter’s presence beyond those words. He anticipated seeing her there at the start of the day, and he was never in his best mood before his morning coffee. Cassidy was all too aware of his morning ritual and gave his grumbled reply no real attention. She passed him without hesitation and went to her old bedroom where her two children—Cynthia, seven; and John, six—were struggling to get their day started. She joined them in on their efforts.

Cynthia and John hurried into the kitchen twenty-minutes later all dressed for school. After cleaning up behind them, Cassidy followed her children downstairs and into the kitchen five minutes behind.

“This you?” Daniel asked as he held up the morning newspaper.

Cassidy noted the headline, ‘9 Bodies Found,’ before responding with a “yes.”

Daniel returned to reading the article with a brief disapproving shake of his head. Cassidy noticed her father’s disapproval then turned her attention to the coffee percolating on the counter. Cynthia and John were seated at the table with their grandfather munching away on pancakes and bacon.

“What time did you get in last night?” Margaret asked while cleaning up behind her cooking.

“It was too late for me to come here,” Cassidy evaded.

Cassidy knew that her mother would worry about her if she told the exact time. Margaret noticed the evasion and was familiar enough with her daughter to know that the time was very late.

“Should you be going in to work today?” Margaret questioned with concern.

“I’m fine, Mom,” Cassidy returned as she snagged a strip of bacon from the serving plate at the center of the table before going back to her cup of coffee on the counter.

“Well, at least eat some breakfast,” Margaret pleaded.

“I’m good, Mom. I’ll get something at work.”

Margaret shook her head in resignation and went back to cleaning the kitchen. Cassidy continued to lean against the counter drinking her coffee while her children ate, and her father ate and read the newspaper. This went on in silence for a few minutes and then Jared came down the stairs and stepped into the kitchen. He was dressed in sweatpants, a tee shirt, and he looked as if he had just awakened. Cassidy was confused to see him enter the room.

“There she is; the detective of the hour,” Jared mumbled at first sight of his older sister by three years.

Jared was an NYPD Patrol Officer, and he worked the four-to-twelve shift. He had his own apartment in Brooklyn which is what made his presence at his parent’s home in the early morning so unexpected to Cassidy. Margaret and Daniel’s oldest child was Aaron. He was two years older than Cassidy, married with three children, had a home in Harlem and was an NYPD Patrol Officer also. 

“What are you doing here?” Cassidy asked. “I thought mom and dad kicked you out,” she added with humor.

“We did,” Daniel grumbled from behind his paper.

“We did not,” Margaret quickly disputed sharply.

“I stopped by after work and decided to spend the night,” Jared explained matter-of-factly.

“You mean you came over to raid mom’s refrigerator,” Cassidy extolled, now suddenly aware.

“I was hungry, and I didn’t have anything at home,” Jared explained as though he had no other choice.

“Have you tried buying groceries?” Cassidy admonished more than questioned.

“I’ll have to give that try,” Jared returned sarcastically.

“This isn’t the first time he has gotten your mother up in the middle of the night to fix him something to eat,” Daniel tossed out with indifference.

“Mom!” Cassidy blurted out in astonishment. “I think it’s about time you set some boundaries with your youngest child.”

“I’m happy to do it,” Margaret countered as she continued to clean.

“Mom, can I get some pancakes and eggs?” Jared asked as he stepped over to the empty chair opposite Cynthia and John.

“Yes,” Margaret answered with a smile.

Jared sat in the chair and turned his attention to his niece and nephew. 

“Hi munchkins,” Jared greeted his niece and nephew with an exaggerated smile.

Cynthia and John returned his greeting with giggles, waves and a “hi Uncle Jared.”

“You know, if you keep treating your mother like a short order cook, I’m going to start charging for the meals,” Daniel admonished behind the greetings from his position at the head of the table.

“No, you won’t,” Margaret corrected sternly.

“Good morning, Dad,” Jared said with a smile.

“Good morning,” Daniel responded as he put down his newspaper and examined his son. “How was your night?”

Their father’s interest in Jared’s night and not hers had the effect of being irksome to Cassidy. She more than halfway expected her father to have some interest in this new case she was working.

“It was quiet for the most part. You know how it goes,” Jared answered with a shrug.

“Yeah,” Daniel agreed with an attentive smile. “But don’t let your guard down. The streets will turn on you just like that.” 

Daniel emphasized his point by snapping his fingers. Daniel was a proud retiree from the NYPD Patrol Officer Force. He spent his entire thirty-year career patrolling the streets of New York City. He was more than a little proud that his two sons had chosen to follow him into this profession. This was not true for his daughter. He feared for her safety in what he considered a man’s profession. The only solace he got out of her becoming an NYPD police offer was her transfer into the detective division of the force. In his mind, being a detective was far less dangerous than the job of a patrol officer.

“So, how was your night, big sister?” Jared asked with a smile. “Your find was the talk of the department last night. Is it true that they’re still out there digging?”

Daniel immediately lost interest in the conversation and returned his attention to the newspaper. Cassidy noticed her father’s reaction to the change in topic.

“We don’t think they’re going to find anything more,” Cassidy replied softly.

It was customary in the Tremaine family to avoid using certain words around preadolescent children. Because of this rule, the family made efforts to avoid using the words murder, kill, shoot, stab, body and their like around their preteens.

“So, what was the final count?” Jared asked with enthusiasm.

Cassidy almost whispered back, “nine.”

“Nine what, Mommy?” Cynthia asked while looking back over her shoulder at Cassidy.

“Cars, Baby,” Cassidy quickly answered. “We found nine cars that were stolen.”

Cynthia accepted her answer and went back to finishing the last of her breakfast.

“Hey, nine cars are nothing to sneeze at,” Jared returned with an excited expression. “You solve this case and they just might bump you up a grade.”

“No chance of that,” Daniel proffered introspectively from behind his newspaper.

Cassidy gave her father a steady look after his remark, then turned her attention back to her brother.

“I’m not thinking about that right now,” Cassidy dismissed with a shrug. “I just want to know what happened.”

“You’re not going to know what happened,” Daniel declared as he turned a stern look on his daughter. “Cases like these are almost never solved by the detective that opens the case file. The investigation just keeps getting passed down for months and years until the perp makes a mistake or stops for reasons unknown. You’re just spinning your wheels.”

“I’m good at my job, Dad,” Cassidy argued back. “Don’t tell me I’m spinning my wheels.”

“Honey,” Daniel began in a conciliatory tone. “I’m just saying that being a detective is all clerical and lab work now. It’s not the exciting adventure you find depicted in paperback novels. You spend your day trying to attach names to the worst acts that people do to people. It’s not something that anyone should see. It’s nothing that I ever wanted my daughter to see.”

Cassidy chose not to respond to his remarks. She knew that the conversation was straying into verbiage that she did not want her children to hear. The tension between her and Daniel did not escape Margaret and Jared’s notice, and both thought it best to change the subject after a moment of silence. But before either of them could, Daniel elected to rally on in the same vein.

“You could have been a teacher like your mother, or a nurse, or even a homemaker,” Daniel expressed with frustration.

“So, could Aaron and Jared,” Cassidy rifled back with more than a hint of annoyance. “Come on, get your coats on,” she instructed Cynthia and John behind her last remark.

The two kids had finished eating and were listening to the conversation when Cassidy instructed them to leave the table. They climbed out of their seats and raced out of the kitchen. Daniel waited until they had left to room before responding to Cassidy’s heated response in an apologetic tone.

“I can wrap my mind around divorcing that jerk, okay. You should have never married him in the first place, but joining the force, I don’t understand that.”

“I have an associate degree in criminal justice,” Cassidy returned with a look of astonishment.

“Just a waste of money,” Daniel mumbled back with a shake of his head.

“Well, Dad, I’m just trying to get you value for your dollar.”

“Okay, come on you two,” Margaret interceded. “This debate never gets resolved. Let it go.”

Cassidy and Daniel said nothing behind Margaret’s admonishment. After a few seconds of silence, Cynthia and John raced back into the kitchen dressed in their coats. Cassidy promptly instructed them to say their goodbyes to their grandparents, which they did with hugs and kisses. Cassidy then opened the kitchen door and the kids ran out of the house.

“Bye, Mom, bye, Dad,” Cassidy said with a hint of regret in her tone.

As she turned for the doorway, Margaret responded with a “goodbye honey.”

By the time Cassidy got one foot through the doorway Daniel spoke up with a closing remark for his daughter.

“I just want you to be safe, Cassidy.”

“I know, Dad,” Cassidy turned back to say with a sympathetic expression. “But I don’t want to be safe. I don’t want to live my life being safe.”

Cassidy gave her father a momentary look of sorrow, turned and went through the doorway. 


	4. It was the Tie

After driving her children to their school, Cassidy directed her vehicle to the Medical Examiner’s Building where her nine cadavers were being autopsied. She was anxious to know what the doctors had learned overnight. The question that she most wanted an answer to was how. How did they die? She believed the answer would be the first thing they learned, and she did not want to wait for the report of a complete autopsy to learn it.

“Good morning, Janice,” Cassidy called out as she stormed into the autopsy room.

All nine of the tables in the autopsy room were occupied with the remains that were found in the Greenbelt. Dr. Janice McCullough was examining the skeleton of one of the nine with a large magnifying glass when Cassidy entered. Small of stature and thin, Janice McCullough was a 57-year-old bespectacled woman with short graying hair.

“Good morning,” Janice returned. “I thought you might come around this morning. So, I’ve been trying to get a jump on my autopsy reports.”

“I know you’re just starting your day,” Cassidy countered apologetically, “but I was hoping you might have something more to give me.”

“Are you kidding? I’ve been here since six this morning. I heard about your find in the Greenbelt, and I couldn’t wait to get started on them.”

Cassidy was relieved to hear that Janice was eagerly examining the Greenbelt remains. It made her feel like less of a nuisance for asking for answers ahead of her report.

“Have you discovered how they died?” Cassidy asked.

“No, not yet,” Janice reported with a furrowed brow. “But the really odd thing is that there is no appreciable evidence of trauma,” she continued with a gesture towards the body in front of her.

“Why odd?”

Cassidy recalled finding the lack of trauma strange when she first saw the bodies. She dismissed the oddity as a consequence of their desiccation. Now hearing Janice say it odd, an eighteen-year veteran of the M.E.’s office, renewed that question in her mind.

“Well, normally in serial cases the method of the kill is obvious,” Janice explained without flourish. “There is usually clear evidence of trauma of some sort. I haven’t been able to find anything to suggest a physical assault. No broken bones, no fractures, and there is no evidence of blood loss in any of the clothing. You’ve brought me a forensic puzzle, Detective. I like it.”

Cassidy was amused by Janice’s usual affinity for her job, but her thirst for answers did not give her time to express it. So, she paused to formulate her next question.

“So, are you thinking poison?”

“The process of elimination would suggest that,” Janice concurred with a shrug. “But without a toxicology report I have no way of verifying it.”

Cassidy knew that the absence of a crime scene or physical residue would make finding proof of poisoning virtually impossible.

“How about when they died,” she asked with a frown. “Were you able to pin down any dates?”

“Dr. Coulter has done a good job of pinning their deaths down to a year and a season,” Janice responded as she picked up a folder on a nearby counter and extended it to Cassidy. “He also found some brown mohair fibers on the clothing of each of body. These fibers are not a match for any of the clothing that the John and Jane Does were wearing. So, it’s a good bet that they all died in the same place.”

Cassidy took a moment to study the information inside folder. When she was done, she looked at Janice with a confused expression.

“None of them died together?”

“No!” Janice returned excitedly. “I know what you’re thinking, but they were all killed months apart. What kind of serial killer targets both sexes?”

Cassidy suspected the males were killed as a side event to an assault on one of the women. The idea that they were separately targeted had her rethinking all her suppositions.

“Is there any chance he could be wrong?” Cassidy asked while holding up the folder.

“No,” Janice answered as she turned her attention back to the corpse on the table. “You’ve got yourself a weird one, Detective,” she added as an afterthought.

Cassidy mulled over this information to assess where she stood at this moment. After a brief analysis, she asked the next question on her mental list.

“When can I expect to see some identifications?”

“I should start getting names later this morning,” Janice reported while she continued to examine the skeleton of the corpse before her. I will send up what I have at midday.”

“Good,” Cassidy mused. “The closer I get to finding what these people have in common the closer I’ll be to finding who did this to them.”

This declaration captured Janice’s full attention. She straightened up and faced Cassidy with an amused expression.

“If you’re looking for something they have in common, then you really need to see this.”

Janice gestured for Cassidy to peek through the magnifying glass that was held over the corpse by a swing-arm. Cassidy was confused by the request and intrigued at the same time. After stepping up to the table, she took a second to give Janice a puzzled look.

“Take a look,” Janice encouraged with a nod toward the glass.

Cassidy bent over the glass and stared at the vicinity it was poised over. After several seconds of looking she had no idea what she was expected to see.

“What am I looking at?”

“That is the question,” Janice answered with an astonished look. “In appearance, it looks like the indentation of a tooth in the ulna bone of Jane Doe 3’s left arm. It’s almost canine, but whatever made that impression is needle sharp. Canine teeth are not needle sharp, and if it was a tooth then there should be impressions of more teeth along with signs of ripping and tearing. What you’re looking at, Detective Tremaine, is the mystery that I’ve been studying for the past half hour.”

“I don’t get it. Why is this so important?” Cassidy asked with a bewildered look.

“This injury was incurred shortly before or during the moment of death,” Janice explained with some amazement in her voice.

“Wait,” Cassidy interjected. “Are you saying that this killed her?”

“This injury would have had to have opened an artery to be traumatic enough to be lethal,” Janice dismissed with a wave of her hands. “And if that had happened, we should have found blood in her clothing, lots of it.”

“Then how is this significant?” Cassidy challenged.

“Three of the other bodies have identical indentations in dissimilar locations,” Janice explained with a smile and a look of astonishment. “Two bodies had similar, but slightly smaller, indentations, and both were found on one of the bodies. And what makes this even weirder is that all of these injuries were incurred shortly before or during the moment of death.”

Cassidy pondered this information while Janice looked on in silence, then she asked the question that formulated with her thoughts.

“Are you thinking some kind of animal did these indentations, a snake maybe, something poisonous?”

“Normally that would be my guess,” Janice answered indecisively. “But I have to emphasize the word, guess. They look too big to be the bite marks of a poisonous snake. We could be looking at some kind of tool or instrument. Just the same, I’ve made inquiries with several zoological institutions that have databases on virtually every known vertebrate on the planet. If it is an animal, then I am counting on one or more to find a match for these indentations. But if it turns out that it’s not an animal that bit them, then I am stumped, Detective.” 

Cassidy’s mind was too busy racing with thoughts to hear Janice’s confession.

“Let me know if you find anything,” Cassidy instructed in a hurry and as she turned to exit the room.

“I’ll send it up as soon as I find anything,” Janice promised to Cassidy’s back as she rushed off.

**_LINE BREAK_ **

“Hey, Detective Tremaine, I hear you were awesome yesterday,” Detective William (Bill) Hodgson called out as he leaned back in his chair. “Oh, and I heard you caught a big case too.”

His remark produced a few laughs from around the work room, but not from most who were there. Cassidy was accustomed to this kind of treatment and responded to it with a dismissive, “Good one, Bill.” Other than that remark, she paid no attention to Detective Hodgson as she made her way across the floor to her desk.

Bill Hodgson was just one of several NYPD detectives that Cassidy found repellant for their not so subtle innuendos and manner. In her mind, he was the story of her life. It seemed like all the men she did not want were the only men that wanted her, with the exception of James Petrucci. He was the first, and only, man to pursue her that lived up to her ideal—for a time. She fell madly in love and married him without a second thought. When he betrayed the covenant that he made with her, she was devastated. She became convinced that no man could love her as completely as she could him. Because of this failure, all suitors since have had a much higher bar to clear and none has yet to do so.

Cassidy thought of herself as attractive since her mid-teens, but she developed this opinion because of the ever-present line of boys then men who wanted to seduce her. She was neither tall nor short. Her liberated persuasion and, notwithstanding, vanity required that she maintain an attractive figure and a well cropped hairdo. The length of her hair was just long enough to need an occasional comb with her fingers to get it out of her face. Makeup and jewelry were tolerated at a minimum for social events but considered nonessentials in her personal life and taboo at work. She had a face that most thought pretty and mannerisms that most found attractive, but she was unaware of those graces. She always thought that she lacked the perfect features that drove men crazy and considered her mannerisms a source of embarrassment.

What differentiated Cassidy from most women was that she was not as effeminate as they. This caused her much consternation in her developing years. It seemed to her that it was always the girls with an abundance of feminine wilds that ended up with the boy that she wanted. Because of this, her childhood memories were not filled with intimate moments with the boy she had a crush on. As an adult, she no longer had a preoccupation with being the apple of mister right’s eye. Her new mindset and competitive drive were serving her well in her professional life. Men, for the most part, were competitors and not the mechanism to a happy existence.

From the moment she sat down behind her desk, Cassidy went to work collecting names of people who had been reported missing within the time frame of the deaths of the nine cadavers. She could not be sure that any of them were local to New York City or State, but she felt the need to compile names and to search through backgrounds on the chance that they were. It was her hope that the names of the victims would become apparent when she lined up missing persons that fit the time periods, the sex and the ages. Waiting on the M.E.’s report required patience that she did not have.

It took Cassidy less than an hour to comprise a list of 19 names. After that, she turned her attention to the location where the bodies were found. She read the recent history of the wilderness refuge, compiled and read through a list of civil and criminal complaints by individuals within the Greenbelt and examined police reports and citations within the community around the Greenbelt. It was a few minutes past 11a.m. and she was still working hard at it when Alan reported in for work.

“Did we get some names?” Alan asked as he sat behind the desk adjacent to Cassidy’s.

“No, we’re still waiting,” Cassidy reported as she continued to study the data on her computer monitor.

“What are you working on?” Alan asked as he noticed Cassidy’s intense concentration.

He expected Cassidy to name one of their other three open case files. But of course, that was not the answer he got. 

“I’m just doing some research.”

“You can’t do anything until you know who they are,” Alan admonished. “And even then, it’s probably going to be a bunch of strangers that have nothing in common.”

“I don’t think so,” Cassidy disputed. “Those bodies weren’t just dumped someplace. They were hidden. Somebody didn’t want us to find those bodies.”

“Killers never want the bodies found,” Alan returned with incredulity.

“Yeah, but these bodies weren’t thrown in the east river where they could pop up as floaters weeks and months later,” Cassidy challenged. “If it wasn’t for the flooding those bodies could have remained buried there for a… century, or more. Why else would anyone drag nine bodies a quarter of a mile into the Greenbelt? This has been going on for seven years,” Cassidy emphasized the timespan. “I think something different is going on here.”

Alan took note of Cassidy’s enthusiasm and knew better than to debate with her on the subject. He had no doubt that he would lose the argument on the weight of the details that they had so far. But his experience as an NYPD Police Officer told him that bizarre crimes happen for stupid reasons all the time.

“Okay,” Alan conceded and shook his head. “But try not to get overly invested in this. Cases like these have a tendency to drain detectives and cause them to spend the remainder of their days fretting over it. It’s not worth it, trust me.”

Cassidy ignored his advice. She knew that she was going to do what she was going to do. But despite this, she paused a moment to look as if she were considering his words. She was about to turn her attention back to her monitor when she caught sight of Lieutenant Adrian Graham coming their way.

“You two are wanted in the Mayor’s Office,” Lt. Graham reported in a stern voice.

“What… us? When?” Alan questioned with a look of amazement.

“I told them you would be there in half an hour,” Lt. Graham returned. “You caught a big one. Local news is all over this. I suspect the Mayor is going to want a report. Tell him what you know and don’t promise him anything. Whatever you tell him he’s probably going to pass on to the press. Trust me, you don’t want to make the mayor look bad.”

“We don’t know anything yet,” Alan exclaimed with a shrug.

“Good, tell him that,” Lt. Graham retorted. “Listen, this is how it works downtown. They’re all about what they can feed to the press. Keep it simple. Let the Mayor and his people make that call. Don’t go out on a limb.”

Lt. Graham paused to give his two detectives a stern look.

“You got it?” he added.

“Yeah Lieutenant,” Alan instantly acknowledged.

Cassidy gave a short affirmative nod.

“Okay, get out of here. He’s waiting for you.”

Lt. Graham walked away as soon as he spoke his last word.

“Right away,” Alan responded then opened a bottom drawer to his desk and retrieved the spare tie he kept there.

Alan was filled with excitement about this summons from the Mayor. This was the biggest event of his entire career as a police officer. He could not help but entertain the thought that he might develop an acquaintance with the Mayor. Cassidy’s mindset was altogether different. She was not excited. She was confused. She could not imagine why the Mayor would want an in-person report so soon after the discovery of the bodies. She had to believe that someone would have told him that they were into the preliminary part of the investigation. Her experience as a police officer told her that information about police investigations were passed up through the chain of command. Detectives were not disturbed from their work to brief the Mayor. In Cassidy’s experience, the only time the investigating officers are ever summoned to the office of someone above the rank of the precinct commander was when they were part of the discussion.

On this rare occasion, Alan was out in front of his partner. Cassidy followed behind her eager partner with a befuddled expression. Her thoughts slowed her movement. Alan noticed the hesitation in her gate so assumed the task of driving. He assumed that Cassidy was nervous about the summons to the mayor’s office, but that idea was in conflict with what he knew of his partner. Cassidy worked best under pressure.

It was a quarter to noon when Alan and Cassidy walked down the hall toward the mayor’s office. Alan was adorned with his clean and never been used tie. He informed Cassidy of his habit of keeping a spare shirt and tie in his desk for emergencies. “How do I look?” he asked Cassidy on two separate occasions during their travel. She told him that he looked great both times.

“You should let me take the lead,” Alan proffered with a hint of nervousness. “I’m the senior detective so they’re going to be expecting that.”

“Sure, absolutely,” Cassidy agreed dismissively as they approached the outer doors to the Office of the Mayor.

After walking into the reception room and giving their names the secretary ushered them into the mayor’s office without delay and promptly closed the door behind them.

“Thank you for coming,” Mayor Nathan Presser greeted after the door closed. “Have a seat.”

Mayor Presser remained seated behind his desk as he motioned them toward the two vacant guest chairs.

“Thank you,” Alan accepted with an expression of awe as he moved toward one of the chairs.

Cassidy gave no response to the greeting or the offer. Her mind was busy identifying and assessing the small group of individuals already assembled in the mayor’s office. She recognized them all by sight, but it was the purpose behind their presence that had her mind racing. Despite her concern, she followed Alan’s lead and made her way to the chair next to his while also removing her overcoat and tossing it over the back of her chair before sitting down.

“I trust you know the names and titles of everyone here,” the mayor questioned.

“Yes,” Alan concurred with a quick look about the room.

Cassidy allowed her silence, and her fixed stare at the mayor, to do the concurring for her. She had already identified the five men sitting or standing about the mayor’s office as the Police Commissioner; Paul Hayes, the Mayor’s Press Secretary; Arthur Del Monte, the Mayor’s Senior Adviser; Richard Barbate, the Chief of the Detective Bureau; Walter Trudeau and the Assistant Chief of the Staten Island Patrol Borough; Michael Fuller.

“I suppose you both have your hands full right now with these bodies you found last night,” Mayor Presser suggested carefully.

“Oh yeah,” Alan agreed with a smile and a nod.

Cassidy said and did nothing in response to the query. The mayor briefly noticed her fixed stare on him before turning his attention back to Alan.

“And I imagine you’re feeling a little overwhelmed.”

“It is a big case. One of the biggest I’ve ever been a part of,” Alan eagerly confessed.

“I’ve been advised that we could be looking at a long investigation,” Mayor Presser spoke with a questioning inflection.

“Oh yeah,” Alan agreed definitively. “Cases like these are always long and hard. You’re usually looking for a needle in a haystack with these types of crimes. But we’ll find him. We always do.”

The mayor took a moment to return Cassidy’s stare. He noticed that she was neither agreeing nor disagreeing with her partner’s words. He had been forewarned that Alan was a plodder who was marking time toward his thirty years and that Cassidy was an ambitious rookie detective. It was his hope that he would be able to maneuver them both into the frame of mind that he wanted. It was becoming clear to him that Cassidy was not going to follow that lead.

“But you could probably use a little help,” the mayor quickly suggested.

“Oh, I didn’t mean us specifically,” Alan corrected with a start. “Often these cases take months and even years to sort out. But we’re just starting,” Alan continued with a nervous glance Cassidy’s way. “We really don’t know what we’ve got yet, but if we are looking at a serial killer then chances are there’s going to be lots of eyes looking over this case before it’s closed.”

Once again, the mayor paused to look at Cassidy for some sign of agreement with Alan’s assessment and found none. Alan noticed the glance and gave his partner a furtive look out the corner of his eyes.

Cassidy had her suspicion about where this conversation was going from the beginning. The presence of the Police Commissioner and the Chief of the Detective Bureau suggested to her that they were making plans to setup a special team to investigate this crime and that she and Alan were not going to be leading it. With each remark that moved in that direction, Cassidy became more defiant in her thought and manner.

“So, what have you got so far?” the mayor asked, returning his attention back to Alan.

“Well, I can’t say that we’ve got much of anything, Mister Mayor” Alan began apologetically.

Even as he was speaking Cassidy was in the process of retrieving her tablet from the inside pocket of her trench coat. All eyes turned to her as she did this. Even Alan turned to her as he finished his response, and when Cassidy spoke the room went still.

“We have nine corpses, six females and three males,” Cassidy reported while scanning her notes. “Cause of death is still to be determined. All died at sometime within the past seven years. The last one, a female, died no more than four months ago. They all died several months apart, and I believe they all died in the same place given that they all had identical fibers on their clothing. The ages of the females are estimated at 30, 28, 27, 27, 24 and 20, give or take two years. The men are calculated to be 42, 34 and 29, give or take two years. All were dressed semi-formally. Given these details, we have 19 missing persons in New York County alone who are a possible match for one of these remains. All but one of the bodies were found in an area that is roughly 20 by 20 square yards. This area of the Greenbelt is infrequently intruded upon by visitors given that it is a wildlife refuge. The location is just under a quarter of a mile from the nearest road. There is no illumination other than what’s in the sky at any given time. Whoever put those bodies there knew exactly what he, or she, or they were doing. This was thought out. It wasn’t a random dump. The fact that the bodies were buried within the city suggests that the killer or killers are living in the city or were at the time that the last body was buried.”

Cassidy put down her tablet after her report and looked the mayor in the eyes before speaking her last word on the question.

“This is what we have so far.”

Mayor Presser had no immediate response. He studied Cassidy a moment then looked to his Police Commissioner who reacted with a slight smile and shake of his head.

“Ah yeah, we have that,” Alan agreed with a bewildered look.

After a pause to examine the other officials around the room, Mayor Presser looked to Cassidy and spoke directly to her.

“We were thinking of bringing in some experienced officers who have done studies on these types of crimes.”

No sooner had Mayor Presser spoken his last word did Cassidy interrupt with a sharp retort.

“Mayor Presser, you can get specialists in here to analyze this all you want. That’s your prerogative. But right now, we have one or more suspected killers who are just learning that their victims have been dug up. And it is my guess, right now, they’re either discarding anything that can connect them to this crime or running. We also have an M.E. who is compiling a list of names that are a match for those nine bodies. When we have those names, we’re going to have a long list of people that we’ll need to talk to. This is what needs to be done right now, and anything that holds us up from doing that is just wasting our time.”

Alan was shocked by Cassidy’s verbiage. His first thought was to apologize to the mayor on her behalf. While he was formulating his words, he noticed that the mayor did not appear to be offended by anything she said. A smile spread across his face while he examined her. After a moment, a shake of his head and a stifled chuckle the mayor responded.

“Okay, you’ve got one week to impress me, Detective Tremaine, and if I don’t like what I get, there’s going to be changes.”

By the time Mayor Presser got to the word ‘week’ Cassidy was up on her feet and collecting her trench coat. Alan was confused by what just happened. He did not know if he should stand up or remain seated. When he saw that the mayor had no objections to Cassidy’s preparation for departure, he began to follow her lead. Cassidy was halfway to the door with her trench coat in hand when the mayor finished speaking. She turned and gave him a one-word response.

“Understood.”

Cassidy turned back to the door and left the office with Alan struggling to keep up.

“How did I do in there?” Alan asked his partner as they hurried down the hall away from the Mayor’s office.

“You did great,” Cassidy answered with an exaggerated affirmative nod. “The mayor looked as if he was extremely impressed.”

“It was the tie.”


	5. A Whole New Level

“I’m guessing this is your doing,” Lt. Graham spoke while looking at Cassidy.

Cassidy and Alan had just arrived at their workstations when they were intercepted by Lt. Graham. His expression was stern. He crossed his arms in front of his chest when he came to a stop.

“You knew they were going to pull us off the case,” Cassidy stated with a sudden look of comprehension.

Lt. Graham looked to Alan for confirmation of his suspicion that Cassidy pushed back in the Mayor’s Office. Alan threw his hands in the air in response to the Lieutenants stern look.

“I was happy to let them have it,” Alan blurted out defensively.

“It’s our case,” Cassidy asserted with defiance.

“This case is a whole lot of wasted time,” Lt. Graham countered. “It’s seven months cold and chances are those nine bodies didn’t know their killer.”

“I’m betting that they have something in common, and whatever that is it’s going to lead us to the killer,” Cassidy defended.

After blowing out a puff of air to calm himself Lt. Graham spoke in a more conciliatory tone.

“Cassidy, I know you want to be a good detective, a great detective, but sometimes doing what is right for the job means passing the work on to more qualified people. We’re a team. We’re an army. We work together. We’re all doing the same job. Can you understand that?”

“Yes, Lieutenant, I understand,” Cassidy returned softly with a nod. “And when I see someone more qualified, I will pass it on.”

Lt. Graham took a moment to give Cassidy an annoyed look before advising her of the adjustments he made to accommodate her investigation.

“Okay, for now this is your only case. I've attached the badges of two teams of detectives to all your other active case files. They will work those. Your inactive case files are unchanged, but that doesn't mean you can revisit them. You’re off the on-call rotation schedule for the duration of this investigation and you have access to comp-time at your discretion, but only for the duration of this investigation and only for the purpose of this investigation. This is your only case until you make an arrest, or I pull you off. I want two verbal reports a day on where you are with this case, midday and end of day. Call it in if you have to. And know this, the instant you hit a dead end I'm suspending the investigation. I’ve got better uses for your time other than chasing a cold case with no leads.”

Lt. Graham turned and immediately set off for his office after his speech. Alan visibly relaxed behind his departure then took his seat behind his desk. Cassidy’s disposition immediately became suspicious. She knew that the mayor would not be impressed if this active case file was reflagged as inactive, and she suspected someone higher up was pressuring Lt. Graham to do just that.

The thought that another person outside of their department was telling her what she could or could not do made Cassidy all the more determined. She took a moment to consider the situation with a growing sensation of anger. Seconds into her reverie, she blurted out her supposition on what she felt was happening.

“You know he’s going to tag this investigation as a cold case file.”

“Just as soon as he can,” Alan agreed as he logged into his computer.

“And when that happens 1PP (One Police Plaza) is going to assign it to some nerds who are going to waste time trying to climb into the killer’s head.”

“Better them than me,” Alan returned impassively.

“We can do this,” Cassidy mildly asserted with a quick look to Alan. “Stop being so negative.”

Alan scanned through his list of intranet messages and did not respond to Cassidy’s rebuke. His attention latched onto one message in particular, and he opened it immediately.

“We’ve got names,” Alan announced with a little alarm.

Cassidy quickly sat up in her chair, logged into her computer and opened the E-mail from ‘J. McCullough, M.E.’ The message inside was brief.

“All identifications verified thru dental records and cross matched to missing person case files.”

Each name had attached links to their missing person case file in either a local or state law enforcement databases. Cassidy first took note of the fact that none of the victims had lived in Staten Island, but all lived in the vicinity. Only three of them lived in one of New York City’s five Burroughs and they were Angela Lindstrom of Queens, Zachary Bowman of Brooklyn and Linda Vaughn of Manhattan. The remaining six were Eric Hayward of Nassau County, Jacqueline Kim and Heather Kaplan of Westchester County, Amy Reyes of Suffolk County, and Diane Ressler and Luis Moreno of Hudson County New Jersey.

After taking inventory of where each of the deceased had lived when alive, Cassidy started an analysis of each of them. She saved their pictures and information inside the case file she had started earlier for this investigation. When she finished an hour later, she and Alan started making calls to the detectives that worked these missing person cases. They informed the detectives that the missing person they were looking for was found. They provided information about where he or she was found and the condition of the body. They inquired about their missing person investigation and what they had learned about the individuals, and they requested copies of the case files. In the end, Cassidy and Alan were assured by the detectives they spoke to that they would notify the next of kin.

When Cassidy and Alan finished talking with the detectives who created the missing persons case files, they began a study of the telephone calls made by the victims over the month prior to their disappearance. This information was collected from the telephone companies by the detectives that initially investigated their disappearance. What they hoped to find was something that the first detectives did not know to look for: calls made to each other or to a common number. Cassidy and Alan were looking for some commonality between these individuals. Even though they were all buried in the same location, this search was soon driven by the fact that they all exhibited the same traits prior to their disappearance: they became distant and secretive with their closest friends and family members. This struck Cassidy and Alan as suspicious behavior. It was all the more intriguing to them when they added in the fact that they all shared the same pastime: they enjoyed going out to clubs on weekends. That was doubly intriguing when they recognized that they all went missing over a weekend.

“Okay, these people didn’t know each other, and we haven’t found a common contact between them,” Alan complained after four hours of phone calls and study. “Clearly, they all came into contact with the same person, but he’s no acquaintance. He's a stranger.”

“These weren’t forcible abductions,” Cassidy disputed. “They were lured away. This isn’t the work of a perp in an alley with a mask.”

“I’m not reading that,” Alan countered. “These nine people don’t appear to have anything in common other than club hopping. Plus, the perp is clearly indifferent to the sex of the vic. I think we could be looking at robbery/murders.”

“No, you’re missing it,” Cassidy challenged. “The secretive behavior the weeks before their disappearance. They’re all single. They all live alone, and look at them. You saw the pictures… They’re all pretty.”

“You think they were killed because they were pretty?” Alan questioned in disbelief.”

“That can’t be a coincidence. Some person or persons entered into their lives. I think they were targeted because they were attractive, and for a reason that I can’t explain yet, they were killed.”

“I don’t know,” Alan halfheartedly disputed. “It fits, but that would take weird to a whole new level.”

“If I’m right about this,” Cassidy reinforced, “then there has to be a footprint somewhere. We just have to keep looking for it.”

“My money is still on robbery/murder,” Alan returned with a yawn. “But let’s do this tomorrow.”

Cassidy could hear the exhaustion in Alan’s voice. She also knew that it was late in the afternoon and that she needed to get home to her kids. Despite these factors, she really wanted to keep searching. She knew that there had to be a commonality between the victims other than the person who killed them. The similarity in their habits, days and weeks before their disappearances, told her that whatever happened to these people happened over time.

“Okay,” Cassidy reluctantly concede. “We can call it an afternoon.”

“I’ll talk to the lieutenant,” Alan instructed after shutting down his computer.

Cassidy agreed then mused over the case file in front of her as Alan walked off toward the lieutenant’s office. A few seconds later, Cassidy closed the file and noticed that she had an E-mail from the Office of the Medical Examiner. The name of the person sending it, M. Harris, was unfamiliar to her, but she suspected it was a clerical worker. The fact that it was coming from the Medical Examiner’s office gave it extra interest. She opened it immediately after seeing it in her E-mail list. Inside, she found a brief message and an attachment. The message read:

‘My instructions are to send this to you.’

Cassidy opened the attachment and found a file written in a language that she could neither read nor identify. Suddenly she was confused. She could not think of any reason why anyone would send her a file written in a foreign language. She began perusing through it in the hope that she would find something written in English. Moments later, she found something that transcended language. The file contained more than two dozen pictures of bite marks similar to the ones found on the skeletal remains of her missing persons. There were also several pictures of the interior of a cave and dozens of desiccated corpses.

Over the next five minutes, Cassidy was on the phone with the Medical Examiner Office. Michael Harris, a member of the administrative staff, advised her that Dr. McCullough left for home two hours earlier and that he was under orders to send to her and Alan any E-mails that came in pertaining to this investigation. He informed her that the NCIC (National Crime Information Center) sent the file and that he had no idea where it originated from. Cassidy, in turn, barked out instructions to the young staffer.

“Get back to whoever sent this file and see if they have an English version of it and if not find someone to translate it. This is useless to me in Romanian.”

Cassidy had just hung up when Alan returned and noticed her continued interest in data on her computer monitor.

“Come on, you’re not going to figure it out in one day,” Alan admonished.

“The M.E. Office just sent us a file,” Cassidy quickly returned. “Those bite marks on our missing persons: they found more remains with those same bite marks.”

Alan took a position behind Cassidy and looked at the pictures from over her shoulder.

“Where is this?” Alan queried after a moment of study.

“Romania, I think,” Cassidy answered with a shrug. “That’s the language the file is written in.”

“Romania,” Alan returned with shock. “I think we’re going too far afield here.”

“I need to know what made those marks,” Cassidy insisted.

“Why?” Alan challenged. “It’s probably just some critter that was gnawing on their remains.”

“That’s just it, it can’t be. They were alive when this happened.”

“You know what I’m thinking,” Alan pondered aloud. “I think these Romanian bites and our missing person’s indentations are two different things. There are hundreds of marks on these bones and most of them look nothing like what we found on our remains.”

Cassidy was quick to object to his idea with a shake of her head. When Alan finished speaking, she promptly vocalized her counterpoint.

“Yeah, but some of them are a match.”

“What are you thinking, Detective?” Alan asked with a suspicious look at his junior partner.

“Maybe the marks are the result of some kind of ritual,” Cassidy reluctantly suggested.

Alan was tempted to laugh but kept that urge contained with some effort.

“A Romanian ritual killing?”

“Okay, it’s a long shot,” Cassidy acknowledged. “But there’s something off about these indentations. I just know it.”

Alan knew when his partner had the bit between her teeth. He knew that Cassidy was going to research the Romanian bite marks, but he also knew she was not going to do it this evening. So, he elected to put an end to the discussion.

“Go home, Cassidy,” worry about it tomorrow.”

**_LINE BREAK_ **

Cassidy came in for work Friday morning half an hour early. She was eager to get back into the investigation now that her nine human remains had names. This meant that they had backgrounds, acquaintances, family members and activities that she could examine. The Romanian file was not high on her list of things to look into. She was still suspicious about the similarities between the markings in the Romanian photographs and the indentations on the bones of five of the nine human remains that they found. She thought that the similarities might tell them how the nine were killed. She very much doubted that there was a direct connection. 

As Cassidy began her day, she noticed there was no translated version of the Romanian file waiting, but she was not concerned. Instead, she began mapping the spending habits of the nine, especially over the six months that led up to their disappearances. Those records were in their missing person case files as well. Her hope, once again, was to find some commonality between the nine that went beyond their propensity for attending nightclubs. Alan arrived for work at his scheduled time and joined the search. To better facilitate their efforts, they secured an interview room to work in. They setup a large magnetic display board and put a map of New York City on top of that. Then they used small multicolored magnets to highlight all the clubs that the nine patronized during the six months before they disappeared. This did not give them the name of any particular club that all nine attended, but it did give them an area of New York they all favored.

“Okay, Midtown and Lower Manhattan looks to be the popular stomping ground for our nine,” Alan proclaimed after the last magnet was placed. “They have that in common, but we’re still looking at more than two dozen nightclubs with no one nightclub common to all of them. So where do we go from here?”

Cassidy gave the question a moment of thought before coming to an answer.

“I think we should start with Lauren Proctor.”

Alan suspected that this person was a close acquaintance of one of the nine bodies they found, but he had no memory of the name or the victim it was connected to.

“Angela Lindstrom,” Cassidy added in reaction to Alan’s confused look. “She was the last victim. Lauren Proctor is listed as a close friend and the last acquaintance to see her alive.”

“And what are we looking for that’s not already in the missing person case file?”

“Nightclubs,” Cassidy answered in a word. “I think we should see if she can add a nightclub to Angela’s list that’s not reflected on her credit card statements.”

Alan thought about it for a second and then gave the idea a shrug of approval and an “okay.”

Alan did not think there was much of a chance that it would pan out as Cassidy hoped, but he knew there was nothing better to do. Questioning family, friends and neighbors again made sense now knowing they had multiple victims of the same criminal. That meant that they could cross check the answers of the family, friends and neighbors of all the victims. Shortly after ten that morning, they left the precinct and set off for Manhattan.

**_LINE BREAK_ **

“Angela was different in the last few weeks before her disappearance,” Lauren Proctor reported with a look of dismay. “I didn’t know what was going on in her personal life anymore. She became closed off, but it was only about what she was doing when she wasn’t at work.”

Lauren Proctor was a Nurse Practitioner at Bellevue Hospital. She was young and attractive. Cassidy and Alan pulled her off work for a five-minute question and answer session, per their promise. This was the same hospital where Angela Lindstrom had worked as a Mental Health Nurse Practitioner.

“You told the detectives who investigated her disappearance that the two of you would go out to clubs together,” Cassidy inquired with a questioning look. “Is that true?”

Cassidy had already informed Lauren that Angela was dead and that her body was one of the nine found in the Greenbelt. She also told her that she and Alan were investigating her death. Lauren was more than happy to cooperate with their re-questioning especially in light of this new information.

“That was before the change,” Lauren clarified. “After the change, I would call and ask if she wanted to go out, and the answer would always be no. ‘I’ve got other plans,’ she would say. When I asked what those plans were, she would tell me that it’s something that she couldn’t talk about.”

“Something that she couldn’t talk about,” Alan repeated in a questioning intonation.

“Yeah, that was always her answer,” Lauren confirmed with a nod.

“Was it customary for the both of you to go to clubs in Midtown and Lower Manhattan?” Cassidy gently queried.

“Yeah, that was our usual destination,” Lauren confirmed.

“Were there any other areas?” Cassidy asked.

“Sometimes, but not often. Once we heard about a new club in Upper Manhattan and we went there, but only once.”

“We have a list of clubs that Angela patronized during the six months before her disappearance,” Cassidy explained as she activated her tablet and retrieved her stylus. “The highlighted clubs are the ones that appeared on her last six credit card statements. It will help us if you can indicate any other clubs on this list that she went to or might have gone to.”

Lauren took the tablet and stylus and scanned through the list. With a touch of the stylus, she put two X’s in the ‘yes’ column and seven in the ‘maybe’ column. When she was done, she handed the tablet and stylus back to Cassidy.

“Thank you,” Cassidy acknowledged with a slight smile and a nod.

Per their promise, Cassidy and Alan allowed Lauren to go back to her work after about five minutes of questioning. They then repeated this process with Derrick Cook, a close friend of Zachary Bowman, and Eunice Sloane, a close friend of Linda Vaughn. The three of them were sought out first because of their proximity to each other. They then widen their area of travel so that they could speak with at least one close acquaintance of all nine of the Greenbelt victims. Each session was no more than ten minutes long, and the same questions were asked each time. It was just past six in the evening when Cassidy and Alan began to steer their car back toward the precinct. An acquaintance of all nine victims was found and questioned. Cassidy allowed Alan to drive back to the precinct so that she could study the results of their queries. She had hoped that she would find one club that they all had in common, but this was not the case.

“They’re all over the map,” Cassidy mused as she continued to study her tablet. “But Midtown and Lower Manhattan continue to be the areas they all have in common.”

“It has to be someone on the street,” Alan insisted softly.

“Maybe,” Cassidy agreed reluctantly.

Despite her admission, Cassidy continued to study the map on her tablet that highlighted all of the information they had collected. After a time, she began to take interest in something that looked unusual to her.

“This is interesting,” Cassidy mumbled to herself.

“What’s interesting?” Alan asked.

Cassidy noticed that she had inadvertently piqued Alan’s interest.

“This part of Midtown has a dense collection of nightclubs, bars and lounges.”

Alan noted the area that Cassidy indicated was about half a mile square.

“So, what about it,” Alan challenged for more.

“Well it’s just that every club in this vicinity was picked as a club that at least one of the victims had been to except this one, The Cavern.”

“It doesn’t sound like The Cavern has a booming business,” Alan quipped.

There were plenty of clubs and lounges in Mid and Lower Manhattan that none of the nine victims patronized. What made The Cavern Nightclub standout for Cassidy was that it was in an area that her nine victims frequented.

“You’re probably right,” Cassidy agreed, giving the oddity a moment more of thought.

Several minutes later, Cassidy’s cellphone rang. When she noticed the name Janice McCullough in the display, she answered with a “hi, Dr. McCullough.”

“Hi, Detective Tremaine,” Janice returned.

“Janice,” Cassidy was surprised to receive a call from her. “What are you doing in the office so late.”

“I’ve been waiting for the translation of that file that came in yesterday,” Janice explained. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t in the building when it came in from the NCIC. These are some really interesting pictures,” Janice finished with some enthusiasm.

“Yeah,” Cassidy concurred with a lack of excitement. “What can you tell me about them.”

“Well, some of the markings in those pictures are a near perfect match for the indentations on our nine human remains,” Janice responded with a tame delivery. “But there is a big difference between their indentations and ours. I can say without a doubt that the indentations in the Romanian photos were made by teeth. You can see where the teeth of the mandibles bit in all the way down to the bone. These are savage bites. You can see impressions where the incisors bit into the bone. It’s all there. The indentations in those pictures are teeth marks. The indentations on the bodies we have here are barely more than scratches.”

“So, our marking and theirs are from two different causes,” Cassidy clarified.

“I can’t say that for sure,” Janice answered back. “But if there is a connection, then you’re definitely looking for some kind of animal, and it’s probably just one and likely a less voracious version of whatever made those indentations in Romania.”

“But it’s still not a snake,” Cassidy looked for confirmation. 

“Snakes don’t have incisors,” Janice corrected.

Cassidy took a moment to absorb this. Alan noticed his partner’s confused look and ruffled brow.

“What’s wrong?”

Cassidy gave Alan a quick look and shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said then turned her attention back to Janice.

“What can you tell me about the file?”

“I sent a translated version of it to you via E-mail, but the interesting thing is that the file is from a fifty-year-old Romanian police investigation.”

Cassidy took a moment to assimilate this information before asking the question that came to mind.

“What were they investigating?”

“The murder of four men,” Janice returned with a bit of shock. “That was their remains in the picture.”

“Murder?” Cassidy rifled back at her. “They thought a person did this?”

“Eventually they concluded that they were killed by an unknown animal. The odd thing about this,” Janice began, stopped and then restarted. “I mean the really odd thing is that they convicted a Grigore Stefanescu of these murders. He was the only survivor of the attack that he claimed was responsible for the death of the four other men. When they found the remains three years later the conviction was overturned.”

“What was the grounds for overturning the conviction?” Cassidy asked with a confused expression.

“He couldn’t have done it,” Janice blurted out. “The bodies were too far away. They say he couldn’t have killed the four men, carried all four of their bodies more than ten miles into the forest, go back ten miles, call the police and be there when they arrived twenty minutes later.”

Once again, Cassidy was momentarily mesmerized by what she heard. After a few seconds of thought, Cassidy was awakened from her reverie by Janice’s summon, “You still there, Detective?”

“Yeah, I’m here. Tell me, did this Grigore person have a description of the animal that killed these men?”

“Grigore Stefanescu,” Janice filled in. “And he says it wasn’t an animal.”

“So, he saw them die?” Cassidy asked.

“He says he did,” Janice responded with excitement in his voice. “Are you ready for this?”

“What did he say?” Cassidy quickly demanded.

“Strigoi,” Janice responded in a word.

“What’s a Strigoi?” Cassidy asked.

“Vampire,” Janice answered.

“A vampire, really,” Cassidy repeated into the phone.

“Actually, Strigoi is a kind of catch all word for the undead, ghosts… magical beings,” Janice explained through the phone. “The description that Mr. Stefanescu gave the authorities there reads like some kind of gargoyle with fangs and claws.”

“Great, I’m looking for a gargoyle now,” Cassidy declared with exasperation*.

Alan began to laugh after hearing this. Janice found no humor in the report from Stefanescu and promptly began to explain to Cassidy why she should not either.

“He clearly saw something. Those men were eaten by something with fangs, and the fact that their remains were found in close proximity to each other suggests that those four men were killed at the same time and by the same thing.”

“Maybe he didn’t see anything,” Cassidy disputed. “Maybe he made it all up.”

“No,” Janice contradicted excitedly. “In the report, it says that there was a large amount of blood found at the worksite where they were. They were killed there and whoever or whatever killed them carried their bodies off and deposited all four of them in a ravine.”

“So, are you telling me we should start looking for gargoyles?” Cassidy questioned in disbelief.

“No,” Janice responded without hesitation. “I’m still betting that some kind of instrument made those indentations.”

“But you don’t know what that might be,” Cassidy questioned.

“I’m still looking,” Janice answered.

“Okay, I hope you find it.”

Cassidy disconnected the call behind that statement.


	6. The Cavern

Cassidy started her Saturday as usual when it was her day off from work. She attended to home and children with little thought for anything else. This was a well-practiced execution. She cared for her children’s hygiene and health, along with the disposition of the house in a methodical order. Her efforts were greatly simplified when James came over at half past ten and took Cynthia and John out for a play date and lunch. For the next three hours, she gave the house her undivided attention. Shortly before two in the afternoon, Andrea Dixon dropped by and gave her reason to relax.

Andrea was a uniformed patrol officer who came through the academy with Cassidy. Their friendship began there. She was a reluctant bridesmaid at Cassidy’s wedding. She would have preferred to have been the other bride. Despite the difference in their sexual orientation, the two maintained a bond of friendship.

“So, how’s this big case going?” Andrea asked with casual interest.

“I’m not sure,” Cassidy reported as she poured them both a glass of wine. “The more I learn the more twisted it seems to get.”

“One of those,” Andrea countered. “More questions than answers.”

“I think this is different,” Cassidy halfheartedly disputed.

Cassidy understood that Andrea was speaking of mystery cases where one or more elements of the crime are too enigmatic for anyone to understand. These were rare cases that became noteworthy because they continually defied explanation. If they did get solved, it often occurred because a new piece of evidence added something to the investigation that started a chain reaction of explanations. These puzzle-box cases were well known happenstances within the law enforcement community.

“Different how?” Andrea asked with more curiosity.

Cassidy knew that she lacked the experience to say that the case she was working on was unique, but her instinct insisted that it was. She believed she would have heard of other cases that had any similarity to it. After all, cataloging crimes and criminals had been a pastime of hers since her mid-teens.

“This doesn’t feel like some sloppy series of events that defies explaining,” Cassidy hesitantly returned. “I get the feeling that if I can just understand what happened then everything else will fall into place.”

James, Cynthia and John came through the front door of the house while Cassidy was making this diagnosis. The children greeted their mother with a quick “hi” as they raced past the living-room entryway and up the stairs to their bedrooms. This was not an unexpected act. The amusements in their rooms often superseded the social activities of the person they most took for granted: mom. James had no such indifference. Now that they were divorced, he almost always took an interest in Cassidy’s life, and often to her annoyance. He walked into the house just in time to hear Andrea begin to give a response to Cassidy’s analysis.

“Be careful, it sounds like you might be getting lost in this case.”

“Too late for that,” James asserted as he stepped through the entryway between the vestibule and the living-room. “Getting lost in her job is Cassidy’s reason for living.”

“How long has it been since the kids ate?” Cassidy asked her ex with irritation.

“Less than an hour,” James answered, mildly derisive. “I took them to Perkins.”

Cassidy did not respond because she had no reason to complain. In place of speaking back, she chose to ignore his report and wait for him to take the hint.

“You do know that you’re just wasting your time with that Greenbelt investigation,” James added as he moved toward the front door.

“So, everyone keeps telling me,” Cassidy replied with exasperation.

“Maybe you should listen,” James stopped to say.

“Good-bye, James,” Cassidy snidely returned to encourage his departure.

Behind that, James turned and left the house with no further comment. When he was out the door, Cassidy shook off the anger he generated in her with a shake of her head and a few deep breaths.

“You shouldn’t let him get to you,” Andrea counseled. “You’re not married to him anymore.”

“He doesn’t think I should be a police officer let alone a detective,” Cassidy returned.

“You’re good at your job,” Andrea quickly affirmed. “Everyone knows it. Why do you care what he thinks?”

“I don’t, normally.” Cassidy answered. “It’s this case. Everyone is telling me I can’t solve it.”

“And why does that matter?” Andrea asked concerned.

“Because I think they might be right,” Cassidy answered with a downcast expression.

“And the great Cassidy Tremaine cannot live with a failure to succeed, to prevail, to amaze,” Andrea bellowed with exaggerated flamboyance. “You know what your problem is, don’t you? You’re a perfectionist. You always have been.”

Andrea paused to give her remark emphasis.

“No one solves all their cases, Cassidy. It’s not even possible. Stop tearing yourself insides apart. Give it your best shot and move on.”

Cassidy understood what Andrea was saying about her. It was an analysis that she had heard several times from several people. She knew that she had a drive to win, and she knew that she could not solve all her cases. It was a reality that she had faced many times over the past six months, but this case was different.

“I know that, but I fought for this case,” Cassidy explained after a sip of wine. “I feel like I’m on stage—like I have to perform well, or else people will think less of me.”

“No one will think less of you,” Andrea disputed.

“Thanks,” Cassidy replied with a smile followed by another sip of wine.

Andrea gave her a suspicious look followed by a scowl.

“You’re not listening to a word I say.”

Cassidy laughed briefly to herself before responding.

“I’m listening. I am, but I can’t stop being who I am.”

“Don’t I know it,” Andrea returned with a chuckle. “So, what are you going to do, detective? Can you figure this one out?” Andrea queried.

“We’re going to canvass some clubs tonight,” Cassidy answered without enthusiasm.

“You’re taking the kids to your parents?” Andrea asked more than stated.

Cassidy answered with a “yeah” and a nod.

“Oh, I was wondering why you weren’t cooking,” Andrea said, suddenly aware. “You don’t sound thrilled about this plan,” she continued with a new awareness.

“I don’t know what I’m looking for, Andrea,” Cassidy confessed. “I don’t even know if there’s anything there to find.”

Andrea had no reply, and Cassidy had nothing more to add. They spent the next half hour conversing about more entertaining things before Andrea excused herself and left for home. Cassidy devoted the next three hours preparing herself and her notes for the work she planned to do tonight. She then took Cynthia and John to her parents in time for dinner there. When she finished eating dinner with them, she said her good-byes and took off for the 122nd Precinct, and from there on to Manhattan.

Alan did not care for her plan. He believed their expedition would produce little if any results. He thought that the necessary parts of their routine investigation, so far, have proven unproductive. This evening’s gamble was no different. What bothered him about this outing was the fact that it took him away from his weekend diversions. He expressed his feelings several times, and Cassidy endured his sullen demeanor without response or apology.

The sun was several minutes below the horizon when Cassidy and Alan entered the first nightclub. They questioned the manager and the staff for any memory of their nine victims. They inquired about security video on the dates the victims went missing. They inquired about complaints from patrons concerning other patrons. The answers to the first two questions were no to memories of the victims and no to videos for those dates. The answer to the third was too numerous and varied to be useful. After less than half an hour of canvassing, they moved on to the next nightclub.

Cassidy and Alan concentrated on the nightclubs in Midtown Manhattan that at least two and as many as five of their nine victims were known to patronize. The missing person’s investigations showed that no nightclub that the victims regularly patronized was common to them all. It was Cassidy’s hope that canvassing these midtown nightclubs would produce a witness or evidence that connected all nine to a single location.

It was just past midnight when they finished questioning employees in the last of the ‘possibly suggested’ nightclubs within Midtown and Lower Manhattan. They finally agreed that they had not learned anything worth knowing, which was no surprise to Alan. He was simply glad to be done canvassing. Cassidy was not surprised by the result either, but she was terribly disappointed that a new piece of evidence capable of unlocking this mystery had not popped up.

“This was always a long shot,” Alan declared less than a minute out of the last nightclub. “A serial killer is not likely to stalk his victims in nightclubs that he frequently visits.”

Alan’s statement startled Cassidy and caused her to quickly turn and look at him with amazement.

“Turnaround, go back,” Cassidy instructed.

Alan’s comment had pinpointed the flaw in her thinking.

“Go back? Go back where?” Alan asked with a stunned expression.

“We’re going to The Cavern.”

That destination did not immediately register with Alan. Cassidy reminded him that The Cavern was not picked as a nightclub that any of the Greenbelt victims frequented. The fact that it was dismissed by all the acquaintances of the nine is what made it stand out in Cassidy’s memory.

Cassidy and Alan flashed their badges to get past the teller and bouncer at the door. When they entered The Cavern, it was clear to them that it was different from all the other clubs they had visited tonight.

Upon entering the vestibule of The Cavern, both Alan and Cassidy felt slightly claustrophobic due to the lower than normal ceiling and dim lighting. The area was not large—no more than ten yards across from the front entrance to the opposite wall. At the right end of the vestibule was a cloakroom; on the left end was a small ticket booth. Entryways to the main room were located at either end of the wall opposite the front entrance. Cassidy and Alan entered the main room through the entryway on the left.

Where the other clubs concentrated on high energy club music mixes, DJ’s, light displays and a sizeable dance floor, the main room of The Cavern sported a festive jazz/cabaret motif tonight with matching decorations. Cassidy and Alan were buffeted with the sounds of talking, laughter and music as they entered. They stopped several feet inside the main room to take in the atmosphere.

The main room of the club was long and spacious and filled with patrons dressed in outfits and costumes befitting the current jazz/cabaret motif of the evening. Compared to the vestibule, the main room felt almost cavernous to Cassidy and Alan. Its high ceiling allowed for a balcony on the upper level that ran along the sides of the room and provided standing room only. There was also a small dining area over the vestibule. The lower level sported a well-stocked bar along the wall that separated the vestibule from the main room. Twenty small round tables filled the center of the room. Each table was just large enough to accommodate four chairs. Five red leather upholstered booths ran along the left and right walls: two on the right and three on the left. The booths could uncomfortably seat ten people; with the addition of chairs, they could easily handle as many as fourteen individuals. Located at the far end of the room was a small jazz band performing on a 12 by 16-foot rectangular stage raised about a foot off the floor. There was no dance floor between the patrons and the stage. A second kitchen entrance was to the left of the stage in the form of double doors.

The room was filled to capacity. The music barely held its own against the patrons’ loud conversations and laughter. The tables appeared to be the club’s main priority—for food and drinks. The employees were smartly dressed in white shirts, black vests and black skirts or slacks. The patrons were far less restrained in their choice of apparel. The sign outside the club advertised a half price discount for theatrical attire befitting the theme of any given night.

“Now I see why none of our victims came here,” Alan commented with a chuckle. “It definitely isn’t pandering to a conservative crowd.”

Cassidy declined to respond to the comment. After a short period of study, she and Alan walked over to the bar. Cassidy flagged the closest bartender and displayed her badge.

“I’d like to speak with the manager.”

The bartender looked at her badge before responding with an “okay.” He picked up a phone from behind the bar, pressed a speed dial button and waited a moment for an answer.

“There’s a couple of NYPD detectives at the bar who want to speak with you.”

The bartender listened for a moment and then hung up the phone.

“He’ll be right out,” the bartender informed Cassidy and Alan with a point toward the entryway to their left.

Cassidy and Alan looked toward the indicated entrance and waited. Almost a minute later, a lone man came through the entryway and approached them. He appeared to be between his mid to late twenties. He was dressed in a dark suit and tie, seemingly groomed to perfection by Cassidy’s estimation.

“Are you the detectives?” The young gentleman asked after stopping in front of Cassidy and Alan.

Both Cassidy and Alan produced their badges and ID’s as he spoke.

“Detective Mercer, NYPD,” Alan announced with a practiced ease.

“Uh, Detective Tremaine,” Cassidy followed less deftly.

At first sight, Cassidy was momentarily stunned. She thought him to be an exceptionally attractive man. She was distracted to the point that she had to shake it off to concentrate on her purpose for being there. Alan took a comical view of this boyish-looking nightclub owner.

“Detectives,” the young gentleman responded with a hint of a head and shoulder bow. “I am David Burrell, proprietor of The Cavern. How can I help you?”

“We’re canvassing all the clubs in Midtown Manhattan,” Alan explained. “We have reason to believe that several missing persons were in one or more of these clubs on the nights they disappeared. We would like to show your employees some pictures.”

David gave the request a second of thought before responding with a hint of surprise. 

“May I suggest we use my office for this?”

“Yes, you may,” Alan answered with a bit of mockery.

David smiled then led Cassidy and Alan back through the entryway he came from. They entered a darkened hallway. Turing right toward the front end of the hall, was a door labeled Office. Just prior to the office door was a door on the left wall labeled Personnel Only. Looking back further down the hall, Cassidy and Alan noticed patrons entering and exiting the men’s and women’s rooms also on the left wall, and all the way down at the opposite end of the hall was a doorway to the kitchen. There was another entryway from the hall to the main room just outside the kitchen door. David led Cassidy and Alan through the door labeled office.

The office was a moderate size room that opened out to the left of the door. There was a single desk and chair workstation with computer monitor and keyboard, and two guest chairs in front. A four-drawer file cabinet sat against one wall, and a two-person sofa rested against another.

“I’m sorry for appearing hesitant to help,” David explained while directing Cassidy and Alan to the open chairs in front of the desk. “I started to think how it would look to my patrons seeing detectives questioning my employees.”

“That’s quite alright, Mr. Burrell,” Cassidy returned pleasantly. “We’ve being doing these interviews in kitchens, hallways and storerooms. The last thing we want to do is cause you any inconvenience.”

Cassidy felt some discomfort when their eyes met. She feared he would see the attraction she felt for him. This thought immediately steeled her against this man that dared to fluster her with a look and a smile. But in spite of her newly fortified resolve, she turned her eyes away from his and set them to the task of retrieving her tablet and stylus.

“I’m glad to hear it,” David returned with a frown and a smile that looked to be holding back a laugh. “How long will this take?”

Cassidy was instantly offended by the smile. She worried that she had done something that made her look foolish.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Burrell, we’ll be out of your business in no time,” Cassidy spoke with an enunciation of cold sternness.

“No, the only reason I ask,” David explained with a dismissive shake of his head, “is because we’re getting close to closing time.”

Cassidy had no response. Alan broke in and spoke in her silence.

“We just want to show your staff some pictures and see if they recognize anyone. It shouldn’t take more than thirty minutes.”

As Alan spoke, Cassidy set her tablet on the desk in front of David.

“Do you recognize anyone in these pictures?” Cassidy asked following Alan’s last word.

David picked up tablet and began to flip through the pictures. He momentarily studied each picture before moving on to the next. When he finished going through them, he extended the tablet back to Cassidy.

“No, none of them are familiar,” David answered with a suspicious look at Cassidy. “Are you saying all of these people disappeared after going out to a nightclub?” he continued.

Both Cassidy and Alan hesitated to answer. But after a moment of thought, Cassidy replied.

“We are investigating that possibility.”

“And you think they all might have come into my club?” David challenged with a look to both Cassidy then Alan.

“Mr. Burrell, we don’t know where these individuals went after they left their homes,” Alan explained to ease David’s concern. “We’re just investigating possibilities.”

David thought about everything that was said. Cassidy and Alan studied him as he did.

“These people aren’t missing, are they?” David asked at the end of his deliberation.

“Not anymore,” Cassidy answered. “Their bodies were discovered three days ago.”

“The Greenbelt,” David returned knowingly. “So, this is a murder investigation.”

“The people in those pictures frequented nightclubs in this part of Manhattan,” Cassidy explained. “And we have reason to believe they went out to a club on the night they disappeared. If you have security video from seven months back, that would be a great help.”

“Seven months ago, that’s the previous owner,” David explained as he pondered the question. “I can’t speak for what he did, but the system I have erases surveillance data every two weeks.”

“How long have you owned this club?” Cassidy asked, clearly surprised.

“It will be three months in another week,” David answered after a thought. “So, there’s no way I could have seen any of these people.”

His answer did not add up for Alan. He saw no reason why he had to be the owner of the club to see one or more of the nine victims. He immediately became curious as to why he thought that way.

“Why not?”

“I’ve only been in the states for five months now,” David returned without hesitation.

“Five months and you already own a nightclub?” Cassidy questioned out of curiosity.

“It’s old money,” David declared with a bashful smile, “an inheritance from my grandmother. My family is—financially secure,” he spoke modestly. “I have commercial property in London and Northampton. I have a small estate outside of Caen, and now I own a nightclub in New York, New York,” David finished with a smile.

“You’re quite the businessman,” Alan responded with an articulation that suggested he found the subject tedious.

David was clearly amused by Alan’s remark.

“I hope so; this is a big investment for me.”

“How did you come to own a Manhattan nightclub?” Cassidy queried with a plain expression and a fixed stare.

“Doris Farber, she’s a close friend of my aunt,” David answered as he returned her stare. “She elected to sell it after her husband passed and I took it off her hand.”

“I see,” Cassidy responded with a look of comprehension. “So, if we could interview your employees, Mr. Burrell.” 

“Would you need to interview everyone, or can the kitchen staff be excused from this,” David asked with a steady look to Cassidy.

“I can take care of the kitchen staff,” Alan quickly assured as he stood up. “There’s no need to bring them in here.”

Alan was motivated by a desire to be around the food and not the preparers.

“Okay,” David agreed with a smile and a nod. “I will send them in one at a time,” he finished with a questioning inflection.

Cassidy agreed and began interviewing the employees of The Cavern a few minutes later. David remained in the main room and directed his employees into his office one at a time. The interviews lasted three to five minutes each. Cassidy saw no need for them to be seated. She met each new employee at the office door, had them look through the pictures and sent them back to their jobs when it was over. A couple of the employees were not even working at The Cavern seven months ago, and all could not recall ever seeing any of the nine inside the club. When Cassidy inquired about hostile occurrences five spoke of separate anecdotal events. When asked about strange regulars all spoke about the group that frequently occupied booth number three.

“How long has this group been coming here,” Cassidy asked Jerry Adams at the back end of the interview.

Jerry Adams was a bartender at The Cavern. His employment there went back five years.

“Oh, that group has been coming here longer than I’ve worked here,” Jerry answered.

“Is that normal?”

“I’ve seen other people who become fixtures at bars and restaurants. What makes the beautiful people unusual is that it’s not just one or two regulars; there’s six of them. That’s not normal in my experience.”

“The beautiful people?” Cassidy questioned with a look of incredulity.

“Yeah, that’s what the waitresses call them. When they’re here as a group, they sit together in booth three.”

“Always?”

“Yeah,” Jerry answered with a go figure look. “They usually reserve it for every Saturday night across two or three months.”

Cassidy took a moment to consider his answer and expressed an opinion.

“That sounds expensive.”

“Five hundred dollars a night,” Jerry returned with emphasis.

Cassidy responded to this report with a slight shake of her head and a look of disbelief. Shortly she turned her thoughts to another aspect of this group.

“So, I take it that the members of this group are attractive?”

“Not overly so,” Jerry countered. “I wouldn’t say that they’re any more attractive than many other people that come here.”

Cassidy was instantly confused by his answer, and she just as quickly questioned it.

“Then why do the waitresses call them the beautiful people?”

“Oh well, that’s because they often entertain other people at their table,” Jerry explained as if he had forgotten to mention it before. “And they are always very attractive.”

This remark intrigued Cassidy more than anything she had heard before about this group.

“Booth number three?” Cassidy queried as though trying to make sure she heard him right.

“Yeah, there’s two of them there now,” Jerry replied with an affirmative nod of his head. “They like to stay late. I hear that they even like to throw _after parties_ at their homes.”

Jerry emphasized the words _after parties_ with air quotes. Cassidy had no trouble understanding what he meant by that. She would have entertained ideas about the possible natures of those parties without the air quotes. Cassidy closed out his interview behind his last remark. Jerry Adams was Cassidy’s third from last interview. It took her little more than half an hour to complete them all. Over the course of these interviews, she took note of the six regulars that regularly sat at booth three. Collectively, the employees of The Cavern were able to provide her with the names of all six. She recorded them in her tablet and placed question marks behind each.

For the duration of Cassidy’s interviews, Alan was in the kitchen. He finished his interviews there in far less time, but the chance of dining on food generously provided by the kitchen chef was too enticing for him to pass up. After David walked Cassidy back to the main room, he sent a waiter to the kitchen to summon Alan. While waiting for Alan’s arrival, Cassidy scanned the occupants of the club. David noticed her interest.

“I hope you will return someday when you’re not on duty,” David proffered with a pleasing deportment. “It would be my pleasure to entertain you as a guess.”

Cassidy ignored the invite and spoke of what was on her mind at that moment with a stern delivery.

“Which booth is number three?”

David was caught off guard by the question. He pondered the question for a moment and then answered it while nodding towards the booths on the left.

“Along the left wall, the booth in the middle.”

Cassidy immediately found the booth and the four-people sitting there, two men and two women. She could see that all four were somewhere between their mid-twenties and earlier thirties, but she could not discern from their looks which of the four were the two regulars. The woman she thought to be the most attractive of the two was wearing a blue-violet, thigh-high dress. Her long brunette hair was braided to one side and dangled to a length that stopped just below her breasts. Her eyes looked to be brown and she had a light tanned complexion. She was adorned with dangling gold color earrings and a gold colored bracelet. The other woman in the booth, two spaces to her left, was attractive as well. Her hair was blonde, unencumbered and fell to a length just below her shoulders. She was dressed in a thigh-high strapless dress and adorned with a pair of diamond stud earrings. The clean-shaven man seated to her left was a little less than average height, a little on the thin side with short, well groomed, dark brown hair. He was dressed in a dark gray suit and a black tieless shirt. The man seated at the opposite end of the booth was slightly above average height and had a mildly athletic build. He had thick, dark brown hair that draped over the top of his ears. His face sported visible stubble. His suit was an almost metallic looking light gray. Beneath it he wore a white shirt with a light blue patterned tie.

After studying the occupants of the booth for several seconds, Cassidy thought to query David about their identities when the blonde woman at the table turned her attention directly at Cassidy. Her look held without waiver. Her expression was bland. Cassidy could not help but wonder if this woman knew who she was or why she was there. Shortly into this visual exchange, the thin clean-shaven man seated to her left leaned over and whispered into her ear. A second later, he turned his eyes to Cassidy and held his stare. Then the blonde woman whispered back to the man while holding her gaze on Cassidy.

"Are we ready to go?"

Alan's question gave Cassidy a start. She looked around quickly and found him standing behind her.

"Yeah," Cassidy responded with a confused expression.

Before moving Cassidy looked back at booth three. No one there was looking at her anymore, but that did not stop her from thinking that there was something strange about the regulars that frequented that booth.


	7. Talk of Vampires

Cassidy was not sure what to think about the regulars at booth three. The thought of these well dressed and arguably elegant people dragging bodies out into the Greenbelt wilderness did not fit inside any motive that she could imagine. She searched for a theoretical reason why these socialites would want to kill attractive strangers. The weakness in that idea made her far more inclined to believe that the crime was the work of a disturbed loner or a drug crazed cult. Nonetheless, when she returned to her home precinct, she did a name search in the New York State Department of Motor Vehicle database. It did not take her long to attach the two faces she saw in The Cavern to the pictures connected to the registration records for Ryan Sandoval and Alexandra Hays. The remaining four names were harder to pin down because she had no idea what they looked like, but she was able to find four individuals with these names who were in the right age range, who lived in the vicinity and had residences that were equivalent in value to Ryan’s and Alexandra’s. It became clear to Cassidy that Brooke Chapman, Ronald Hollis, Christine Meyer and Evan Pritchard, along with Ryan and Alexandra, were comfortably fixed financially, so much so that their financial portfolios did all the work. Cassidy also checked to see if they had any local police records or any warrants and found none. Finally, she submitted a request to the NCIC database for any criminal records anywhere concerning these six individuals, then she set off for home with the understanding that the findings were likely to arrive at her desk by Monday morning.

It was a quarter to three, Sunday morning, when Cassidy parked her car outside of her home. The street on the block where she lived and the streets leading up to it were quiet and still. Her only memories of being up so late as a NYPD Police Officer went back to when she worked the overnight shift with a partner. Back then, it was usually shortly past sunrise when she would return home and, more often than not, it was on a weekday. She was not accustomed to seeing her home block this quiet. The dark stillness of the moment caused her to feel alone and that the houses up and down the street were vacant. This feeling was supported by the realization that her house was empty.

Cassidy had just reached the landing at the top of the stairs leading to her front door when a darkness seemed to soar by overhead in total silence. It was like a shadow flying through the air. She had only perceived a hint of it at the top edge of her vision. She looked up in a hurry to catch sight of it, but it was already gone from view, assuming it was anything at all. She thought that it was just a flicker from one of the streetlights or a bird. She shortly dismissed the thought and opened the front door to her house. All the lights inside were off, and she had no reason to change this condition. She was neither hungry nor thirsty. She had eaten a candy-bar and drank some water at the precinct. She groped her way up to the second level to her bedroom and turned on the light there. After setting her watch, wallet, keys and cellphone on the nightstand, she took off her overcoat and blazer and put them away in the closet. She then removed her belt holster and handgun and put them away in a lower nightstand drawer and then took a seat on the end of her bed. When she prepared to remove her shoes, a creak from the house rafters caught her attention. Cassidy came to an immediate standstill and waited for more of what she just heard to break the silence. She sat still to prevent the noise of her own movements from drowning out the sound a second time. After several seconds of waiting, she decided to abandon the effort. As she reached down to unfasten her shoe, a vibration startled her back into an erect posture.

Cassidy routinely set her cellphone to vibrate while it was on her person, and she regularly forgot to change the setting when she put it down. Its reverberation on the top of the nightstand took her by surprise. She whipped about in the direction of the sound with a momentary expression of shock and then relaxed when she realized it was only her cellphone. Then it dawned on her that this was a strange time for someone to be calling. She was not on-call at the precinct. Her mind jumped to two possibilities: it was a wrong number call or something of importance had occurred. Cassidy opened the line after the third ring.

“Hello.”

“Hi, I am calling for Detective Tremaine,” the voice on the other end of the line declared.

The connection was bad, but Cassidy was still able to comprehend what was said by the caller and the foreign accent in his voice.

“Speaking, who’s this?”

“I am Grigore Stefanescu,” the voice on the other end answered. 

“Who?” Cassidy asked before thinking.

An instant after her question, she recalled the name from the Romanian file.

“Grigore—Stefanescu, I need to speak with you,” Grigore stated, a little desperately.

Cassidy remembered Grigore Stefanescu’s name from the Romanian police file, but she did not understand why she was getting this call. She made no request to speak with him, and she could not think of a need to.

“Who gave you my number?”

“Poliția Română,” Grigore returned in his Romanian tainted English. “They say you investigate my case.”

Cassidy noticed the concern in the man’s voice and suspected that he thought her interest in his case was about him. She promptly attempted to dissuade his concerns.

“No, no, I was doing research for a crime that was committed here in New York,” Cassidy explained earnestly.

“I need to tell you what happen,” Grigore returned with growing anxiety.

“Sir, this is something different. What happened to you has nothing to do with the case I’m investigating,” Cassidy quickly explained.

“Yes, it does,” Grigore contradicted just as quickly. “You have to know. I have to tell you.”

Cassidy began to believe that she was speaking with an unstable person. By her assessment of his voice, he seemed to be bordering on paranoia. She quickly concluded that it was better to let him speak so that she could be done with him.

“I have to know what?” Cassidy asked with a hint of exasperation.

There was a notable moment of silence before Grigore spoke again. His speech was less hurried, but his voice was shaky.

“We let them out. We did it.”

Cassidy recalled what he had told the Romanian authorities and surmised what he was speaking of.

“You mean the, ah—Strigoi?” Cassidy asked, disbelieving she was actually having this conversation.

“The vampires,” Grigore countered with alarm.

“Vampires?” Cassidy questioned back with a shake of her head.

“Yes,” Grigore confirmed with a hint of hysterics. “We dug them up. We let them out.”

Cassidy was not prepared for this conversation. It took her a second of thought to determine how she should respond to his assertion.

“Are you saying that vampires are responsible for the murders here?” Cassidy questioned suspiciously.

“Yes!” Grigore insisted excitedly.

Cassidy took a second to consider his reply and then spoke to Grigore in a condescending tone.

“I don’t think so, Mr. Stefanescu, but thank you for…” Cassidy returned before he broke in again.

“You have to listen to me,” Grigore interrupted with a shrill voice. “I’m telling you the truth.”

Grigore’s interruption freed Cassidy from the fear of offending him. She no longer felt the need to soften her responses. The only thing she felt at this moment was a need to be done with him.

“Listen, Mr. Stefanescu,” Cassidy spoke in a challenging tone. “I’m a New York City Police Detective. I don’t believe in ghost stories and monsters.”

“You will,” Grigore insisted an instant behind Cassidy’s remark.

“And why is that?” Cassidy countered with exhaustion.

“Your city is infested with vampires,” Grigore answered with a surprisingly stern delivery.

The dread in Grigore’s delivery took Cassidy by surprise. The thought of hanging up on him was momentarily halted by the intensity of his sincerity. Shortly, she reacquired her unstable opinion of Grigore, thinking his story preposterous, but she elected not to hang up on him out of regard for his feelings.

“So, are you saying I should start sharpening wooden stakes and wearing a crucifix, Mr. Stefanescu?” Cassidy questioned with a bit of ridicule in her tone.

"You must listen to me. You must believe what I say," Grigore insisted with desperation in his voice. “You are in danger.”

Exasperated by the fact that her effort was not dissuading her caller from his objective, Cassidy asked a question she expected to bring their conversation to an end.

"Okay, Mr. Stefanescu, let’s say I believe you. What should I do?"

There was a moment of silence behind Cassidy’s question before Grigore gave his reply with a stark one-word answer.

"Leave."

Cassidy took a moment to absorb his dire warning, and then she responded to it with a somber address.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stefanescu, but I don’t believe in vampires.”

“You will,” Grigore returned gravely.

Grigore’s last response had convinced Cassidy, finally, that their conversation was over. She was no longer willing to entertain the rantings of an emotionally unstable man.

“Goodbye, Mr. Stefanescu,” Cassidy responded with stern brevity.

Cassidy disconnected the call behind her last word. Nothing that Grigore Stefanescu said gave her reason to believe that there was a common cause between the death of her victims and the four bodies in Romania. It had to be a freak coincidence. Shortly after hanging up the phone, she relegated the entire conversation to a bizarre incident best forgotten. A short time later, Cassidy was asleep in her bed.

Despite the late hour when Cassidy went to bed, her internal clock would not allow her to sleep past 8 a.m. the next morning. She was in no hurry to retrieve her children from her parents. She already knew that her mother and father had no plans for the day, so she decided to use the remainder of the morning attending to household chores. Shortly before 2 p.m., Cassidy arrived at her parents’ home to collect Cynthia and John. Margaret promptly invited her to stay for dinner. Her offer was motivated by the fact that Cassidy’s older brother and his family were also coming to dinner. Margaret was already preparing a big family dinner with the assumption that Cassidy would stay.

Aaron Tremaine and his wife, Diane, arrived shortly past three in the afternoon with their children: Joseph, 10; Sharon, 8 and Mark, 5. It was a rare opportunity for Cassidy to visit with her older brother and his family. Aaron’s home was in the Bronx which made casual and coincidental meetings between them unlikely. They were never to incline to visit and reminisce much anyway. Their chance meetings usually came about when visiting their parents’ home. This was one of those occasions.

“How’s the investigation going?” Aaron asked.

The kids were outside at this time, and Aaron felt free to bring up the subject now that the adults were comfortably situated in the living-room and fixed with soft drinks.

“Would you believe me if I said it was going okay?” Cassidy questioned back.

Cassidy believed everyone expected her to fail. It was her insecurity that prompted her response.

“I probably would have if your response had come in the form of a statement,” Aaron returned with a smile.

“Those types of crimes are never easy,” Daniel casually interjected.

“Are you talking about those bodies that were found in the Greenbelt?” Diane asked with a confused look.

Diane rarely paid attention to the specifics of her husband’s work. Generally, she took it all in as a whole and then dismissed it. Crimes and criminals were normally a distasteful subject for her. Despite her general feeling of distaste, the news of the Greenbelt Nine, and her sister-in-law’s involvement with it, stuck in her memory. It was that recollection that prompted her query.

“Yeah, it’s the only thing I’m working on right now.” Cassidy told Diane.

“Do you have any leads?” Diane asked inquisitively.

“We’re investigating a suspicion,” Cassidy answered with a noticeable absence of confidence.

“Why were they killed?” Diane hesitantly asked.

Diane was not sure if it was okay to ask Cassidy about her investigation. Being a police officer’s wife, she understood that speaking of an active investigation to anyone outside of the immediate family was not allowed. But she was not sure if Cassidy was aware of her discretion in such matters or if it made any difference to her.

“My partner thinks they were robberies,” Cassidy answered without hesitation.

“But you don’t?” Aaron asked knowingly.

Cassidy gave the question a moment of thought before answering without conviction.

“It doesn’t feel right.”

“Trying to understand why these people do what they do is a waste of time,” Daniel grumbled with indifference.

“I hear you went to a few clubs last night,” Aaron said casually. “Do you think that something is going in the clubs?”

Aaron’s inquiry was motivated by the need to advance the conversation. He was not particularly interested in the state of Cassidy’s investigation, and he doubted that she would give him all that she was doing.

“There is support for that thinking,” Cassidy returned. “But we haven’t been able to find a club that connects these nine victims.”

“You won’t,” Daniel disputed with an ‘I told you so’ tone. “Those killings are the work of some random nutcase. He’s a stranger. Somebody that nobody knows.”

“I don’t think so,” Cassidy returned in defense of her investigation. “I think they all knew this person, and I think they trusted him or them.”

“Them? You think that it was more than one person?” Diane asked with surprise.

Still in a defensive mode Cassidy answered Diane’s query with more than a hint of resolve.

“I think it might be.”

Aaron was still taking it all in with casual interest. He did not share his father’s opposition for Cassidy’s chosen profession or for detectives in general. He was aware of the ongoing dispute between his father and sister, but since it did not involve him, he never engaged in it. His curiosity about the case prompted him to ask another question.

“Do you at least know what happened?”

“No, not a clue.” Cassidy responded with a shake of her head. “We’re still waiting on forensics for that.”

“I take it you have no information on their movements?” Aaron’s question assumed.

“The missing person investigations did the footwork on that,” Cassidy explained with a puzzled look. “There’s no record on where they were going or how they were planning to get there.”

“MTA, taxi…?” Aaron inquired.

“They weren’t dressed in clothes that suggested they were traveling by mass transit,” Cassidy returned. “I suppose it’s possible, but the missing person investigations found nothing on CCTV to confirm it. A couple of the victims had cars, but they were found at their residence. Several of the victims frequently used a transportation service, but there’s no dispatch records for a taxi or an Uber or a Lyft car going to the addresses of the victims on the days they went missing.”

“So, someone picked them up?” Aaron questioned more than stated.

“That’s the prevailing theory,” Cassidy answered back.

Aaron was a little surprised that he did not get a more definitive answer to his question. After a pause to display his confusion, he continued his inquiry.

“No eye witnesses?”

“A couple, but one is not sure he was seeing the victim and neither had information about the car other than it was a dark colored sedan.”

Aaron went silent. He did not know what more to say or think about Cassidy’s investigation into the Greenbelt Nine. Shortly, Diane seized the moment and asked a question.

“You don’t have any suspects?”

“I have some people of interests,” Cassidy confessed with some show of reluctance. “But I haven’t been able to find a way to make them fit the crime.”

“But you think they could have done it?” Aaron asked.

“To be honest, it’s more likely that I’m just trying to find a way to attach a strange group of people to a bizarre crime.”

“What’s your next step?” Aaron asked.

“Tomorrow I’m going to interview more friends and family members of the victims and hope that I can find something that connects these nine people.” Cassidy explained with a slight shrug.

Diane was intrigued by Cassidy’s strange group of people. The subject had taken on the flavor of a murder mystery in her mind. The fact that Cassidy made no mention of them in her plans for tomorrow prompted her to ask about them.

“What about your strange group?”

“I’m in the process of peeling away their life story as we speak,” Cassidy explained in a matter of fact manner. “I should know by the end of the day tomorrow if they have any criminal records or were a person of interest in any crimes. And I will continue to look into their backgrounds, but if I don’t find something that sends up a red flag, then I will have nothing to support investigating them any further.”

Diane was a little disappointed with that answer. This strange group of people had captured her imagination, and she had some hope that there was some secret to be uncovered there. Cassidy’s response deflated that hope a great deal, and she settled back into the reality of the moment and inquired no more about it. The other family members could think of nothing more to ask Cassidy on the subject either. It was clear to them all that she had nothing concrete to say about her investigation and thought it best not to dwell on it any longer. The conversation moved to a new topic and never returned to the Greenbelt Nine.

It was approaching nine o’clock at night when Cassidy stepped back inside her home with Cynthia and John. She shortly put the children to bed and then followed them into slumber. When she awakened, it was Monday morning. She started her day as she had a hundred times before. She arrived at work, early as usual and began reading through the E-mails that had accrued since she last viewed her mailbox. She found the translated Romanian police file from Dr. McCullough and reluctantly decided to read through it. She needed to be thorough even though she had abandoned the idea that it had any relevance to her investigation.

“Good morning bright eyes,” Alan greeted as he approached his desk.

Cassidy looked up from her computer monitor and sent him a smile and a “good morning.”

“So, what’s on the calendar for today?” Alan questioned as he hung up his coat.

“We go back to questioning friends and family and try to find something that connects these victims.

“Sounds like a plan,” Alan endorsed with artificial optimism.

Alan sat down behind his desk and had just turned on his computer when he noticed Cassidy concentrating deeply on something she was reading.

“What are you looking at?”

Alan’s question awakened Cassidy from her study. She gave Alan a quick look and then turned back to her monitor as she responded to his question.

“I’m reading a translated version of that Romanian file.”

“I thought we abandoned that as a possible lead,” Alan returned with a little surprise.

“We did,” Cassidy returned. “But it’s here, so I’m giving it a look through.”

Alan acknowledged her answer with a nod. He had turned his attention to the E-mail in his own mailbox when Cassidy told him about the call she received from Grigore.

“He called you?” Alan asked with a stunned expression.

“I think Janice referenced me when she did a search for indentations that matched what she found on our victims.”

“What did he want?” Alan queried.

“He wanted to warn me,” Cassidy answered with a smile and slight shake of her head.

“Warn you of what?”

“He says New York is infested with vampires,” Cassidy returned, still smiling.

“Vampire, vampires?” Alan questioned with incredulity.

“That’s what he said,” Cassidy answered.

“So, he’s telling us to start looking for Dracula?” Alan questioned.

Cassidy gave his question a nod as she continued to read. Alan turned his attention back to his own E-mails so she could read without disruption. The silence between them lasted for several minutes before Cassidy snatched up her phone and dialed out.

**LINE BREAK**

“Dr. McCullough,” Janice announced into her desktop phone.

“Janice, this is Cassidy. In one of the pictures, there is writing on the cave wall, but I can’t find a translation for it.” Cassidy stated without hesitation. “Where is that?”

“The pictures in the Romanian file?” Janice asked for clarification.

“Yeah, there’s some writing on the cave wall in one of the pictures, but I can’t find a translation for it,” Cassidy affirmed.

“The Romanian authorities probably didn’t think it was important enough to include the translation in the file,” Janice reported with little interest.

Cassidy was confused by her explanation. It took her a moment to figure out her meaning.

“So, the writing isn’t Romanian?”

“No, it’s Latin,” Janice explained matter-of-factly. “Whoever wrote that was probably alive when the Roman Empire stretched across Romania.”

“Can you find someone who can translate it?” Cassidy asked.

“I’m sure I can dig someone up, but why?” Janice asked back. “It’s just a two-thousand-year-old scribbling on a cave wall. What relevance could it have to the case.”

“Someone took the time to photographic it,” Cassidy answered passively. “I want to know what it says.”

“Okay, I’ll find someone who reads Latin and get back to you,” Janice said.

“Thanks, Janice.”

**LINE BREAK**

Cassidy hung up the phone and went back to reading. She abandoned the file after several minutes more of study and then turned her attention to Alan.

“Are you ready?”

Alan had just finished with his E-mails and acknowledged that he was ready to continue their investigation. They readied themselves to leave for another day of questions and answers with the acquaintances of the Greenbelt Nine when Alan brought up an observation from one of his E-mails.

“I noticed that the background checks didn’t find anything on those six Cavern Nightclub regulars you spoke of. Are we crossing them off the list?”

“Not yet,” Cassidy answered as she slipped into her trench coat.

“Why not?” Alan asked. “There’s no police records concerning them, no arrests, no warrants, no investigations. There’s not even a speeding ticket on any of their records.”

“Yeah, but I still find something odd about them,” Cassidy explained with a thoughtful look.

“What’s that?” Alan asked as they began to move toward the exit.

“I don’t know,” Cassidy responded, looking confused.

Alan thought for a moment before responding with a bit of pessimism.

“Well, here’s my opinion for what it’s worth. I think investigating the six of them is a waste of time.”

“You could be right,” Cassidy acknowledged as they moved into the hallway. “But I can’t shake the feeling that something is off with them.”

“What?” Alan wanted to know. “Name me one thing that is out of place with any of them?”

“That’s just it,” Cassidy returned with a more confused expression. “They’re too clean. Their names don’t come up anywhere.”

“There’s nothing uncommon about that,” Alan challenged.

“Not for one person,” Cassidy countered. “But I would expect to find a black mark on at least one of them—a minor notation, a ticket, a jury summons, something.”

“Okay, maybe that’s unusual,” Alan began in a conciliatory tone. “But I wouldn’t call it odd.”

“You want odd?” Cassidy questioned back with a hint of defiance. “Try this. All six of them were born in the same year.”

“What’s odd about that?” Alan disputed. “They probably met each other in high school or college.”

“No, they didn’t,” Cassidy quickly disputed. “They grew up in different states, and they attended different colleges. And now here they are all together and the best of friends.”

Alan thought another moment before giving it a one-word response.

“Coincidence.”

Alan and Cassidy spoke no more on the subject for the remainder of the day. Cassidy was not convinced of her position and Alan could not dispute that the coincidence of their mutual birth year and super clean footprints were not peculiar. For the rest of their workday, they tracked down and interviewed seven more friends or family members of the Greenbelt Nine. Despite their effort, they found nothing to connect the nine victims other than their nightclub hopping pastime. They returned to their precinct with nothing of interest to show for their efforts.

Alan was not at all dejected by the failure of the day. He was not expecting any great discovery to arise. He believed that anything of significance would have popped up in the first twenty-four hours of their investigation. Experience taught him that evidence was either there to be immediately discovered or not there at all. He had long concluded that this case was in the latter category. For Alan, it was just another day of accrued work hours.

Cassidy was in a different frame of mind. She hated that another day had passed without a break in the case. It was not an unusual occurrence for a detective’s investigation to fizzle out. What made this failure especially disturbing to Cassidy was the feeling that she was on the clock with this case. This investigation felt like a personal challenge.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Alan assuaged. “No one expected you to solve this case.”

“I expect to solve my cases,” Cassidy lashed back at her partner. “You can sit on your ass and wait for retirement if you want, but I still have three more days and I will figure this out.”

Alan was not hurt by Cassidy’s offensive and angry outburst. Life, for the most part, was something he took in his stride. He understood that Cassidy’s anger reflected how she felt and really had nothing to with him. He had no doubt that she would shortly feel guilty for her words and he forgave her as soon as she said them.

“I will see you tomorrow, Detective,” Alan said with a smile.

Cassidy was still in the heat of her anger and could not bring herself to produce a pleasant response. After a moment of silence, Alan turned away and left the squad room. Cassidy continued to mope at her desk for a minute or two more, then she grudgingly got up to leave. She was in the 122’s parking lot, just a few steps away from her car, when her cellphone began to ring. She promptly pulled it out of her coat pocket and answered.

“Hi, Cassidy, this is Janice. I hope you don’t mind me calling after hours, but I just got the translation.”

Cassidy was at first confused by this declaration. She had already been through the translated version of the Romanian police file and did not understand why Janice was bringing it up again. It took her a moment to remember the writing on the cave walls.

“Oh, the cave walls,” Cassidy acknowledged with a start.

“Yeah, I thought you wanted that,” Janice returned with a hint of confusion. “You made it sound important this morning.”

“I wouldn’t use the word important,” Cassidy corrected. “I was annoyed that it was there and there was no translation for it.”

“Well there is now,” Janice returned with an upbeat tone. “I sent it to your inbox just now, but I can tell you if you want to hear it.”

“What’s the translation, Janice?” Cassidy asked.

“This is not a word for word translation and the pronunciations and accents for the names are probably off,” Janice qualified beforehand. “But it reads like this: ‘I, Christian Domitius Norbanus, declare before man and god my undying love for Constance Ofella. 817 A.D.’ Can you believe that? It’s a twelve-hundred-year-old love note.”

Janice joyfully concluded her report. Cassidy was surprised rather than humored and had no reply. After a few seconds of silence, Janice continued.

“Apparently, the dark age of Romania had its share of Romeos,” Janice suggested with delight.

Cassidy found nothing amusing. Her feelings were quite the opposite, and she gave voice to her feelings a moment later.

“He loved her,” Cassidy returned as though speaking to herself. “He knew he was going to die, and his final thoughts were of her.”

Janice took note of Cassidy's serious tone and brought her own tone closer to her level.

"I suppose it is sweet," Janice imparted. "Who would have thought there were men like that back then?"

"I was beginning to think there were never any men like that," Cassidy mumbled back.

"You know what your problem is, Cassidy," Janice began in a lecturing tone. "You're a romantic. You have to learn to take men as they come."

"No, I don't," Cassidy corrected with finality. "Thanks for the translation."

Cassidy disconnected the call.

LINE BREAK

Griff’s Place was a sport’s bar that Alan frequented after work. Prolonging his time away from home was his primary reason for going there. This pastime was not the result of any hostility between his wife and himself; he and Helen Mercer were looking forward to his retirement. They were making joint plans to travel the country and the world. His visits to Griff’s Place had more to do with an absence of passion. With over twenty-seven years of marriage, they had become comfortably apathetic toward each other. Because of Alan’s hunger for social interaction, Helen’s indifference to his absence and the concentration of people he knew at this bar, it became a popular after work destination for him.

When Alan walked into the bar, he was greeted by several people. Each welcome alerted another of his presence. There were a couple of jests made at his expense and one serious inquiry regarding the disposition of his one and only investigation. He entertained them all with humor and casual indifference. He made his way to a section of the bar where two other detectives were seated. He positioned himself at the end and joined in the conversation. He maintained their society for the better part of a half an hour before the two detectives took their leaves and set off for their homes. Alan stayed behind and contented himself by watching the sports news displayed on the monitors in front of him. 

“Do you mind?”

The question came from the attractive young lady that had been sitting at a table across the room from Alan. He had noticed her sitting there, as did all the other men in the bar. Her presence in Griff’s Place seemed out of place. Alan had never seen her there before. Most who came to Griff’s were regulars. She looked too well dressed for a late Monday afternoon, and there were no large office buildings in the area. For a while, he entertained the idea that she was a schoolteacher by the way she was engaged with something on her computer tablet as she nursed a white wine.

“Ah, not at all,” Alan responded as he gestured to the seat next to him.

Alan never considered the idea of saying no to the young lady, but it did seem odd to him that she wanted to sit next to him. There were other open seats at the bar. A few of them would have provided her with an open seat to either side of her. He briefly thought that she was coming on to him but dismissed it in favor of her possible interested in what was being aired on the TV monitor in front of him.

“Are the Yankees any better this year,” the young lady softly asked as she leaned slightly toward Alan.

The question took Alan by surprise. Her interest in baseball was expected, but her willingness to converse with him on the subject took his thoughts back to the idea that her move to his side was about him and not the television. Flattered by the idea, this renewed thought had him momentarily at a loss for a reply. He shortly dismissed the thought as wishful thinking and became amused by his own gullibility. With a smile on his face, he produced a reply.

“Who knows? To hear these guys tell it, we’ve made some improvements, but half the league has made improvements too.”

The attractive young lady gave Alan a pleasant smile in reaction to his reply, then she turned back to sipping her wine. After a brief silence, she asked Alan another question.

“Am I correct in believing that you and your friends are police officers, or is that a misinterpretation?”

The fact that this young lady had listened in on his conversation had Alan newly amused by her attention. His revised suspicion was that she wanted to talk to him because he was a police officer.

“Yes, we are,” Alan confirmed with a nod.

The young lady responded with a broad smile, then submitted another question.

“So, am I in a police hangout?”

“Our precinct is nearby and a lot of us like this spot,” Alan explained after making a half turn toward the young lady.

In response, the young lady leaned forward onto the counter and a little in Alan’s direction and asked another smiling question.

“What kind of police officer are you?”

“I’m a detective, second grade, homicide,” Alan answered without hesitation.

The young lady continued to hold her smile through Alan’s answer and put a new question to him an instant behind his reply.

“Homicide, I’m impressed. Are there a lot of homicides in your precinct?”

“We are a little above the national average,” Alan answered with a seemingly automatic reply.

“So, you must have multiple cases that you’re working on?” The young lady leaned forward to ask while holding a winsome smile.

“No, I only have one right now,” Alan instantly returned with a slight shake of his head.

Alan could not stop himself from giving direct answers to her questions. There was something about the way she spoke, or the way she looked at him, that made him feel compelled to give answers.

“Really? I would love to hear about this case,” the young lady sweetly professed.

In the past, talking about his work with civilians was taboo, but for some nebulous reason that his mind had trouble recognizing, that rule did not seem to apply to her.

“We’re investigating the Greenbelt…”

Alan was cut off from his reply by a sweetly spoken interjection from the attractive young lady.

“No, Detective Mercer. Tell me while you drive me home.”

“Okay,” Alan agreed automatically.

Alan got up from his seat, paid his tab and escorted the young lady out of Griff’s Place with a look of hypnotic obedience.


	8. Dead End

“Good morning.”

“You’re early today,” Cassidy acknowledged as she walked to her workstation.

Alan looked away from his computer monitor to give Cassidy a smile.

“I thought I would come in early and get a jump on things. How are you feeling?”

Cassidy gave Alan a curious look of as she hung up her coat.

“I’m okay,” Cassidy reported with a little sorrow. “About last Friday… I was tired.”

“No, you weren’t,” Alan tossed back with a grin on his face. “You were frustrated and pissed off, and I was the sounding board that you could vent it out on.”

Cassidy noted Alan’s good mood and was relieved. She returned his smile before speaking again.

“Just the same, I’m sorry.”

It’s fine. It’s fine,” Alan responded while pecking at the keys on his computer keyboard.

Cassidy noted Alan’s attention to his monitor and became curious about what he was doing. It was unusual for Alan to be working with his computer when he could push most busy work off to her, and as far as she knew there was nothing to be done that she could not do.

“What are you doing?” Cassidy asked with a frown.

“Something I read yesterday was gnawing on me all last night,” Alan answered while examining his monitor, “and I’m just looking into it.”

“Is it about the case?” Cassidy asked.

“Yes. In several of the missing person investigations, witnesses reported seeing the victims using taxis, Uber and Lyft vehicles to get around.” Alan explained as he continued to study his monitor.

“Yeah, but not on the days they went missing,” Cassidy countered.

“I know, but it got me to thinking that the driver could have taken a private call or scheduled the ride days earlier,” Alan suggested tentatively.

Cassidy was momentarily perplexed. She was not sure what Alan was suggesting.

“Where are you going with this?” Cassidy asked with a confused expression.

“What if the killer is a ride-share driver who takes off the book gigs every now and then?” Alan queried hopefully.

Cassidy immediately picked up on Alan’s train of thought that the victims may have gotten into vehicles that were not sent to them through dispatchers.

“It’s an idea, but how do you test that?” Cassidy asked.

Alan felt partially support by Cassidy’s question and became eager to share.

“Okay, we dismiss taxis because there were only a couple of witness observations of vics coming home in one,” Alan enthusiastically spoke. “I went through all the missing person investigation files and found a couple of references to Lyft vehicles by friends and neighbors and seven on Uber, so I think we should concentrate on Uber first.

“But we know that none of our vics made phone calls before they left their homes on the day they went missing,” Cassidy argued.

“That doesn’t prove they didn’t arrange for a ride by an Uber or a Lyft driver on another day,” Alan countered.

Cassidy shook her head in disbelief.

“This sounds like a waste of time.”

“Think about it,” Alan rifled back. “If they did get into an Uber and there’s no record of it, then that would make our vics ideal targets for a driver who is not above killing a passenger for the money in his or her pockets.”

“I can’t believe this was about money,” Cassidy disputed sternly and shaking her head. “It’s too much risk for pocket change.”

“So, he gets his kicks off killing people, but it fits,” Alan countered. “It’s not like there hasn’t been crimes committed inside ride-share cars before. We’re talking about a dual sex serial killer here. There has to be a component to this that has nothing to do with sex.”

“Maybe,” Cassidy conceded with a shrug.

“They get into the car, somehow the driver poisons them, he takes their money and then dispose of the body,” Alan suggested with excitement. “It fits.”

“But we don’t know that they were poisoned,” Cassidy quickly disputed.

“What we do know is that they were not bludgeoned, shot or stabbed,” Alan argued back with equal swiftness. “At this point, poison is the most likely murder weapon. Who knows? We could be looking at a female killer.”

Alan’s remark gave Cassidy cause to stop and think. Poison did lend itself toward a female killer, and it did work well with the fact that the female victims did not appear to have been sexually assaulted.

“We should at least look into it,” Alan proffered.

“We only have two days left before the mayor brings in his dream team,” Cassidy pondered aloud.

“So, you want to spend the next three days questioning more friends of the vics,” Alan asked with astonishment. “All of that is in the missing person files. It’s a dead end.”

Cassidy gave the idea some more thought.

“Okay, one day, but then we go back to questioning people who knew the victims. Agreed?”

Alan returned a halfhearted “okay.”

“So how do we do this?” Cassidy asked.

“E-Z Pass,” Alan answered as though he had unveiled a surprise.

Cassidy had no idea how Alan planned to use the E-Z Pass system. She knew that E-Z Passes had been used before to establish the general location and direction of movement of a particular vehicle, but she could not think of a way to use them for identifying dozens of ride-share vehicles moving all around the city. She gave Alan a puzzled look and waited for him to clarify.

“I have access to Uber’s employee database,” Alan eagerly reported.

“How did you get that?” Cassidy asked.

“The lieutenant got me a warrant, and I faxed it over,” Alan flatly answered while still working at his computer.

“You have been busy,” Cassidy stated.

“I plan to check the vehicles of the Uber drivers against the lists of toll booth payments that were made on all of the days that our last four vics disappeared,” Alan continued to explain without looking up from his computer. 

“Why the last four?” Cassidy challenged.

“The receipts of E-Z Pass transactions only go back three years,” Alan returned.

Cassidy immediately recalled that only the last four victims were killed within the past three years.

“Well, that’s still a lot of drivers,” Cassidy pointed out. “Do you know how many Uber drivers are out there?”

“Thousands,” Alan answered in a word.

Immediately after making that declaration, Alan scrunched his face into a grimace and growled out a “damn” as he pushed himself back into his chair.

“What's wrong?” Cassidy asked as she got up from her chair and went to Alan’s side.

“I can’t get this thing to match up names from the Uber database with names in the E-Z Pass receipt records for the dates that the last four vics went missing.”

“Let me do it,” Cassidy said as she stepped in and took control of Alan’s keyboard and mouse.

Alan gladly surrendered the task. It took Cassidy a couple of minutes to setup the filter and run the search. It took the computer less than a minute to spit out 419 names.

“It’s still too many,” Cassidy said.

“Okay, so now we use their work hours,” Alan quickly instructed, pointing at the monitor.

Cassidy took a few minutes to configure another filter. It took the computer less than a minute to filter out the names of drivers who were working a fare during or within an hour after the disappearance of the last four victims. When the search was finished, the list was down to 32 names and five of them were female.

“It’s doable,” Alan stated with a smile.

“We don’t even know if we’re on the right track,” Cassidy surmised. “And even if the killer is a ride-share driver there’s no guarantee that he or she uses an E-Z Pass.”

Cassidy knew that anyone who drove for a living in New York City would almost certainly have and maintain an E-Z Pass, but she was reluctant to waste her time on what she perceived to be a long shot. The thought of spending the day looking for someone who meets Alan’s criteria but likely not have anything to do with the murders had Cassidy unnerved. The mayor’s one-week timeframe was pressuring her to not waste time. 

“Hey, you’re the one that insists on being thorough,” Alan countered. “Are you just going to ignore this?”

Cassidy realized that fear was causing her to search for reasons not to go down a time consuming but viable path, so she shrugged her shoulders, shook her head in disbelief and decided to martial on in good humor.

“You came up with this last night?”

“I have my moments,” Alan returned with a broad smile.

“Okay, let’s wash these guys through the system and see how they look,” Cassidy acquiesced with a chuckle.

LINE BREAK

Boom! The sound reverberated through the door and walls like a terrifying thunder. For Cassidy, all movement beyond the shockwave came to a momentary standstill. In that same instant, wood splinters exploded through the apartment door and Detective Alan Mercer flew backwards as though an invisible fist had punched him in his left abdomen. He flew across the hall belching air as he slammed into the door behind him, then he slid down to a sitting position on the floor in wide-eyed shock. With an expression of terror on her face, Detective Cassidy Tremaine tripped over her own feet as she jumped back and away from the eruption. It was just past one o’clock in the afternoon.

“Son of a bitch!” Alan roared as he pushed himself up off the floor while removing his Smith & Wesson semi-automatic pistol from its holster.

While Mercer got back onto his feet, Cassidy screamed into her two-way radio, “Shots fired! Shots fired! Officer down!”

After Cassidy shouted her location into her two-way radio, a second gunshot rang out. The bullet blasted through the door in front of Alan and into the door behind him, just to the left of his head. A third gunshot punched through the door and into Alan’s left shoulder. Horrified by seeing her partner shot for a second time and by the thought of what was likely still to come, Cassidy clumsily pocketed her two-way radio and went for her gun. Showing no debilitating ill effects from the two impacts to his person, Alan quickly recovered to duck down and to the right to avoid the next two shots through the door. With an expression of rage on his face, Alan kicked open the door and brought his gun to the ready. Cassidy recovered in time to bring her gun to the ready and in a stooped position, braced herself against the wall just to left of the door that Alan had just kicked open. The instant the door flew open, the explosion of a sixth gunshot rang out from inside the apartment. The impact of the projectile into the lower right side of Alan’s neck sent him sprawling backwards. As Alan fell back, he fired two poorly aimed shots into the apartment.

“Alan!” Cassidy shrieked as she watched him go down onto the hall floor.

Cassidy was terrorized by the sudden gun battle that had erupted from out of nowhere. She quickly looked at her partner as he lay on the hall floor bleeding from the neck. Her eyes were wide open from fear. Her mouth was partially open as she hyperventilated. She froze. Her partner was still a visible target for the shooter. Her desire to save Alan from the shooter was checked by her fear of being shot herself. After a second of hesitation, she heard the sound of two clicks from inside the apartment. Motivated by the thought that the shooter’s gun was empty, Cassidy pushed herself up to full stance and rushed into the doorway, leading with her gun at the ready. She saw a single individual in the room: a man, middle-age, wearing a white T-shirt and dark slacks. A look of crazed terror shaped his facial expression. His hands were in the act of reloading a revolver. As Cassidy recognized his actions, she fired five shots from her Glock 19 semi-automatic pistol, hitting her target with each shot. Seconds after Cassidy’s successive burst of gunfire, Albert Haynes lay writhing and gurgling in pain on the floor before slipping into unconsciousness then death.

For a moment, Cassidy was stunned by what had just happened and by what she had done. A few seconds later, she regained her faculties, secured the area as best she could with a quick scan of the room and then raced back to Alan’s side. He was unconscious by then and barely alive. In a panic, she slowed the loss of blood from his neck wound by pressing her gloves against it. She paid no attention to the other areas of his body, assuming that his body armor had successfully stopped the bullets from penetrating into his person. A head popped out of a doorway down the hall and Cassidy yelled instructions at him.

“Call 911! Call 911! Officer down! Call 911!” 

The head disappeared back into the apartment. Cassidy turned her attention back to Alan. With tears in her eyes, she pleaded for him to stay with her, to stay awake, to keep breathing. The only sign of life coming from Alan was the glazed look in his eyes. Cassidy stayed by his side until the first uniformed officers arrived, carrying gauze and a medical kit from their car, and took her place by Alan’s side. Paramedics arrived a few minutes later and Alan was hurried away to the closest hospital. He was pronounced dead on arrival.

Cassidy arrived at the hospital half an hour later with a support escort and driver, Detective 2nd Grade Sarah Murphy. Cassidy was informed of Alan’s passing within minutes of her arrival. Despite this information, she chose to wait at the hospital for Alan’s wife. Helen Mercer arrived outside of the examination room where her husband’s body lay for nearly an hour. With an expression of shock on her face, Helen approached a tearful Cassidy. She hesitated briefly to take in Cassidy’s blood-stained clothes and then went through into the examination room. Neither knew what to say to the other at that moment. Several minutes later, Helen came out of the room sobbing. Cassidy stood up to meet her.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Helen,” Cassidy entreated.

Helen stopped to give Cassidy a nod of acceptance and then continued to move by with her head bowed and sobbing. Cassidy watched her leave before gathering her belongings so that she could go home as well. Detective Murphy followed her lead and together they set off for the exit. Just inside the emergency room door, Cassidy was intercepted by Lieutenant Graham who was coming to see her.

“You okay?” Lt. Graham asked softly.

“Yeah,” Cassidy returned with a nod.

Lt. Graham paused to study Cassidy a moment.

“They’re going to want to do an official debrief on the shooting, but I can push that back a few days.”

Cassidy took a moment to consider his offer. At that moment, she was not sure what she wanted to do, but it did not take her long to realize that she wanted to tell her account of this shooting as soon as possible.

“No, I’ll come in tomorrow,” Cassidy responded quickly. “I need to get it over with while it’s still fresh in my mind.”

“Okay,” Lt. Graham agreed with a nod. “But you don’t have to report in. You’re on administrative leave until the end of week.”

Cassidy wanted to challenge that order, but Lt. Graham quickly interrupted her thought.

“This is non-negotiable.”

Cassidy accepted this mandate with a nod.

“After that you’ll be on light duty until you complete and pass a psych exam,” Lt. Graham instructed.

“Okay,” Cassidy agreed.

“I’ll set up the debriefing for 10 a.m.,” Lt. Graham informed her. “Report to the conference room at that time.”

Cassidy agreed with an “okay” and a nod.

“There will be an officer involved shooting review,” Lt. Graham continued passively. “But I don’t won’t you to worry about that. It was a good shoot.”

Worrying about it was all Cassidy could do at the moment. Since the end of the encounter, she was in a daze about the whole event. It was not supposed to happen. They went there to talk to this guy. She had no idea why he started shooting at them. Her greatest fear was that the officers investigating this incident would misconstrue the events that led up to the shooting. As a police officer’s daughter, she knew enough about police shootings to understand that the killing of a civilian who was not wanted for anything was not likely to reflect well upon her, not even when the civilian fired first. There would always be some who would believe that she and/or Alan did something to provoke the exchange. Full vindication was dependent upon there being some evidentiary support for her claim that Albert Haynes fired first. Without this evidence, she knew that the police shooting review investigators would feel some pressure to highlight any credible infraction to evade a civilian complaint that they were covering something up. This concern notwithstanding, Cassidy expected her claim that the civilian fired first to bode well for her to some degree. She repeatedly rationalized in her head that the bullet holes in the door supported the truth of what happened.

Cassidy had no confidence in finding someone in the apartment building that would back up her claim that Haynes fired first. The community that he lived in was financially depressed and predominantly anti-police. Because of her awareness of the general condition of the community, her mind spent the past hour going over everything that happened and how she and Alan came to be there. She compared her memory with the preliminary report she gave at the site of the shooting before leaving for the hospital.

Albert Haynes was the sixth Uber driver they went looking for. She and Alan whittled the list of 32 names down to 9 that they believed to be worth questioning. What made them people of interest were their histories of violence and criminal records. Albert Haynes was the third driver they found.

“Are you sure that the review is going to go well?” Cassidy questioned Lt. Graham about the debriefing that she was scheduled to do the next day.

“Are you kidding?” Lt. Graham asked with a confused look on his face. “You got him. At the least you’re going to come out of this with a commendation.”

It was Cassidy’s turn to be confused. She had no idea what the Lieutenant was talking about and he quickly noticed her confused expression.

“No one told you?” Lt. Graham questioned with a slight smile. “He’s the guy. They found evidence in his apartment that links him to all 9 Greenbelt victims, keys, wallets, ID’s, credit cards. You got him.”

“He did it?” Cassidy asked with astonishment.

“Yeah,” Lt. Graham emphatically returned. “You closed the case.”

This news stunned Cassidy. The last thing she expected to hear was that Albert Haynes was the killer that they were looking for. She never had any faith in this line of their investigation. She only saw it as something to be briefly explored and then dispensed with in favor of researching the lives of the victims. At this moment, she did not know what to think. After a moment of silence, she was led away by Detective Murphy to complete the first leg of her trip home.

After her trip back to the precinct, Detective Murphy took Cassidy’s car and drove them both to her parent’s house. Detective Murphy was then driven back to the precinct in a waiting patrol car. It was just after five in the afternoon when Cassidy walked into her parent’s home. She found her children and her ex-husband, James waiting there with her parents.

“Are you okay?” Margaret asked while hugging her daughter.

“Yeah, I’m okay, Mom,” Cassidy returned unconvincingly.

Margaret challenged her answer with a second inquiry and got the same reply but with more insistence. Cynthia and John immediately moved in to give their mother a hug which was not a normal act for them. Normally, they took their mother for granted, but their father and grandparents’ behavior had them convinced that something was wrong.

Cassidy was quick to assure her children that all was well, and with an abundance of smiles, kisses, tickles and hugs, she allayed their apprehensions. She devoted a considerable amount of time to reassuring them before seeing them comfortably seated in the living-room watching a DVD movie. Cassidy took advantage of their distraction to join her parents and James in the kitchen.

“Was it a good shoot?” James asked the moment she entered the room.

“Yes, it was a good shoot,” Cassidy responded, rather annoyed with the question.

"I was just asking," James explained defensively.

"I know," Cassidy responded apologetically. "I'm sorry."

James accepted Cassidy’s flustered apology with humility, and then suddenly, he realized his normally confident ex-wife had been traumatized. Now seeing Cassidy as a frightened woman, he felt his masculine sense of protection swell and take advantage of his manner and speech.

"Now, tell me what happened," James instructed with some condescension.

Cassidy rolled her eyes in reaction to the tenor of his query and then started to explain.

“He just started shooting through the door,” Cassidy began with constrained hand gestures. “Alan was struck with the first shot. He took it in the vest. I went to the floor when I jumped out of the way. Alan was hit again when he got up. By the time I got out a call for backup, Alan was bursting open the door. He took one in the neck. When I went in, the shooter was reloading his revolver and I shot him. That’s what happened.”

That’s a good shoot,” James advised with authoritarian bravado. “You shouldn’t get any blow back from the board about that.

"It doesn't have to be a bad shoot for the review board to find something wrong," Daniel corrected. "When you’re debrief you should bring a union lawyer with you."

Margaret was noticeably shocked by the suggestion that she might need a lawyer. Cassidy noticed her mother's distress and spoke up to relieve it.

"That won't be necessary, Dad," Cassidy countered with a nod.

"You shot a civilian without a warrant or probable cause for an arrest," Daniel disputed with a look of surprise. "It doesn't matter that he killed your partner. You need to prove you did everything by the book."

“He’s the guy,” Cassidy softly informed them with a shrug.

“What?” James asked with a confused look.

Daniel was equally confused, but he waited on Cassidy to explain.

“Evidence was found in his apartment that linked him to all nine bodies found in the Greenbelt,” Cassidy explained with a look of bewilderment. “He did it.”

Both James and Daniel were stunned by her report. Margaret was visibly happy to hear it.

“So, you’re going to be okay?” Margaret questioned, hopefully.

Cassidy had no immediate response. Her thoughts were elsewhere. She shook her head as if to say she did not know the answer to her question, and then spoke the words on her mind.

“Alan is dead.”

Margaret spent the next few minutes consoling her daughter over her loss. A little later, James said his goodbyes and set off for his home. Cassidy and her children ate supper with Margaret and Daniel, and with the urging of her mother and the endorsement of her father, she and her children spent the night there.

The next morning, Cassidy attended to her children with little regard for her own schedule. The debrief was scheduled for ten o'clock that morning. She knew she had plenty of time to make this meeting despite her growing preoccupation with the morning television news broadcast. The report of the shooting, the deaths of Detective Alan Mercer and Albert Haynes, the suspected Greenbelt Nine killer, was being widely, and repeatedly, reported.

Cassidy arrived outside of precinct 122's conference room at 9:55 a.m. The debriefing started on schedule and came to a completion shortly after twelve noon. At the end of these proceedings, Cassidy was informed that her investigation into the deaths of the Greenbelt Nine was over. She was told that a new pair of officers would conduct the follow up investigation to try to find answers to unanswered questions about the crimes. Behind that declaration, Cassidy was dismissed to her administrative leave with the appreciation of the board for a job well done.


	9. Monday Next

The next five days following the shooting was uneventful for Cassidy, and it was engineered to be so. She spent her administrative leave looking after her children and her home to the exclusion of anything to do with her job. She received unsolicited help with the housework and kids from most of her family and some of her friends. Everyone was eager to be a diversion for her during her time off from work, but their efforts had the opposite effect. Cassidy read their attentions as concern for her wellbeing and sympathy for the loss of her partner. Both of these thoughts pulled her away from the distraction she got out of housework and attending to her children. Despite these failings, she did manage to put the shooting behind her, and by Monday next, she was ready and eager to apply her mind to something that was a challenge.

Cassidy walked through the parking lot entrance of Precinct 122 shortly before 7 a.m. Her thoughts were heavily laced with trepidation about her return to work. She had no idea how she would be received by her fellow officers. Over the past week, she could not help but entertain thoughts that Alan’s death was the result of some failure on her part. At this moment, those thoughts were cascading into her mind. Within seconds of entering the building, her torrent of fear began to subside. Officer after officer welcomed her back, expressed their condolences to her about Alan and congratulated her on a job well done. A soft standing applause greeted her when she walked into the robbery/homicide squad room. Cassidy did not have the words to respond to this acceptance from her peers, so she modestly nodded and smiled in return.

Immediately after the applause began, Lt. Graham noticed Cassidy’s presence through the glass wall of his office. With a wave of his hand, he summoned her. Cassidy set a course for the Lieutenant with some hurry to escape the attention of her peers.

“How do you feel?” Lt. Graham asked after inviting Cassidy to sit.

“I’m good. I’m ready to get back to work,” Cassidy reported behind a deep breath.

“That’s good to hear,” Graham returned. “But there are a couple more steps to be completed before you can get back to working cases.”

“Yeah,” Cassidy acknowledged with a word.

“Your psych exam is scheduled for 10 a.m. today. Here’s the paperwork on that,” Lt. Graham said as he slid a form toward her. “You’ll have to pass that. When you come back, you’ll be on desk duty. The shooting review is still underway, but once you’ve been cleared, you’ll be fully reinstated.”

“Why is that taking so long?” Cassidy asked with concern.

“This is not long,” Lt. Graham returned with a slight shake of his head. “There have been reviews that have lasted for more than a month.”

“But those involved complex investigations,” Cassidy disputed. “This is simple. What are they looking for?”

They’re just crossing all their T’s. “Lt. Graham explained in a soothing voice. “An officer was killed. They’re in no hurry. Don’t agitate yourself, Detective.”

Cassidy was not eased by his assurance. Lt. Graham noticed and elected to add a little more support to his words.

“The rumor is you’re looking at a commendation and a bump up to Detective 2nd Grade when it’s over, and this is coming out of 1PP.”

Cassidy appeared encouraged by this news and visibly relaxed, then she put forth her next concern.

“Where does the Haynes investigation stand?”

“It’s been classified inactive,” Lt. Graham reported.

That answer took Cassidy by surprise. She had seen no report in the news about the details of the Greenbelt crime. That is something she would have noticed. The omission suggested to her that they were still trying to learn how the victims were killed, why they were killed and where they were killed.

“Did this just happen?” Cassidy inquired about the suspension of the investigation.

“The case has been inactive for two days now,” Lt. Graham reported.

The lieutenant’s report astonished Cassidy all the more. She knew that there were unanswered questions regarding the Greenbelt murders. Without these answers, one or more accomplices could escape arrest and justice. The fact that the department was willing to end an active investigation into Haynes and his crimes so soon did not make sense to her.

“Two days?” Cassidy repeated with surprise. “Do we know what happened? …how? …why?”

“The guy was a mystery,” Lt. Graham explained dismissively. “He had no friends, but he had several acquaintances. It looks like he was a dealer. He had a small stash of Ecstasy and more than five-thousand dollars in small bills stashed in the box spring of his bed.”

Cassidy was not dissuaded from her opinion for further investigation.

“But where did he go with his victims? Why did they get into his car? I didn’t see anything in the missing person files that suggested any of the victims were using.”

“Maybe they didn’t catch it,” Lt. Graham countered.

“No, this is not making sense,” Cassidy disputed. “There should have been some evidence of drug abuse. Something is missing.”

“Probably,” Lt. Graham agreed. “Unanswered questions are not uncommon in investigations. You know this”

“But if we knew where he took them maybe we could get the answers to these questions,” Cassidy insisted.

Lt. Graham began shaking his head in opposition before she finished speaking.

“It’s anyone’s guess where they went,” Lt. Graham returned. “The fact that no one knew they were going out is possibly why they were targeted.”

“I don’t think so,” Cassidy argued back. “I believe they were targeted before they got into Haynes’ car.”

“And what makes you think that?” Lt. Graham asked.

“It’s something about the way they all acted before they disappeared,” Cassidy quickly disclosed. “They became secretive. They didn’t tell anyone what their plans were for that day. And, according to their friends, it was unusual for them to go out alone.”

Lt. Graham considered Cassidy’s response with a look of disbelief.

“You’re over thinking this, Detective.”

“How could you just cold case this investigation without getting answers to these questions,” Cassidy rifled back. “He had to take these people somewhere before he killed them. We should at least find out where they died.”

“We tried to find answers,” Lt. Graham argued. “He could have taken them anywhere. We’ve thoroughly searched the contents of Haynes’ apartment for an answer, for a clue. We found nothing. Haynes is dead, and without him we may never know. Let it go.”

Cassidy left Lt. Graham's office with the intention of leaving the investigation behind. She could see no other option but to move on to her next assignment. After a one-hour meeting with a department’s psychologist, Cassidy returned to her workroom desk with a ‘Fit for Work’ authorization. She was promptly put to work processing, compiling and filing paperwork that other detectives needed to have done but were too short on time to do. For the remainder of the morning and part of the afternoon, Cassidy was busy with paperwork.

By 2 in the afternoon, the pace of incoming work for Cassidy subsided to a large degree. She had time to reflect on things that her mind could not let go of, and the question that bothered her the most was how the nine victims ended up in Haynes’ car. Out of curiosity, she opened the inactive case file. Her badge was still attached to the file, so she had no problem getting in. The unauthorized access block did not apply to her. She quickly noticed that nothing was learned about Haynes' Ecstasy supplier or his clientele. This missing piece of data was just another annoyance to add to this mystery. She kept thinking that this man was too much of an enigma. He was being convicted by evidence that was unsupported by an explanation. He had a criminal record that listed burglary and grand theft auto as the offenses that got him incarcerated three times in the past. The transition to drug dealing was no great leap, but it seemed like a strange change of profession for a man described as less than sociable when he was in a good mood. All the characterizations of Haynes from people who knew him concentrated around loner, sullen and habitually ill tempered. When Cassidy coupled these descriptions with the fact that there was no information in the file about where he got the Ecstasy or who he sold it to, she had cause to be suspicious of Haynes' presumed criminal enterprise. Despite her concerns, she had nothing of substance that conflicted with the conclusion of the investigating detectives’ that Haynes used his Uber car to deal drugs.

After reading the summation of the investigating detectives, Cassidy turned her attention to Haynes' telephone records. All the metadata on the calls he made and received were accrued by the detectives who investigated Albert Haynes while she was on administrative leave. Cassidy had only to go into the area of the file that contained the information that she wanted. It took her less than a minute to discover more than 2 years of Albert Haynes’ cellphone metadata in the file.

Cassidy did not expect to find anything of interesting in that list because the investigating detectives notated that Haynes' call history was almost completely related to his Uber services and that every name pulled out of the history was cleared from being an accomplice in the killings or his drug dealings. It was also noted that there were no records of phone calls from Haynes to his victims, or vice versa. Despite that, Cassidy elected to look through two years’ worth of calls to and from Haynes' cellphone. The names connected to the numbers of each incoming and outgoing call was listed, except for some prepaid cellphone calls. 

Shortly into her study of Albert Haynes’ phone records, Cassidy noticed that there was a large number of prepaid cellphone calls on the list which did not produce any special interest in her. The detectives were able to find the owners of more than half of the prepaid cellphone numbers and wrote their names on the list. She was confident that those individuals were cleared of any complicity with Haynes’ criminal activities and suspected the unidentified prepaid cellphone numbers were equally innocuous until she realized that Haynes always got a call from a prepaid cellphone on the days the last three victims disappeared. The metadata did not go back far enough for the other victims. She also noticed that the numbers in all three cases were different, the caller or callers were unknown, and the cellphones stopped appearing in the metadata a short time later. That was not especially intriguing, but she did consider those numbers worthy of additional attention.

After several more minutes of study, Cassidy notice that the prepaid cellphone numbers with unknown owners made numerous appearances over the space of a month, on average, and then they stopped appearing altogether. When the prepaid numbers stopped appearing, new prepaid cellphone numbers, also with unknown owners, began appearing in their place. In addition, one of those prepaid numbers always appeared on the list on a day that one of the last three victims went missing. She speculated that one or more individuals were deliberately trying to stay concealed. She knew that switching out the prepaid cellphones every month would hamper any effort to track the owners. Realizing that the owners of the cellphones in question might be hiding their association with Haynes, Cassidy began a new search through the case file. She wanted to know if the detectives who collected the data had considered that same line of thought. She found that the metadata of each of those prepaid cellphone numbers were also subpoenaed and collected into the case file. The presence of this data told her that the numbers had been given separate attention. After a brief search into that segment of the case file, Cassidy found a notation that specified an observation and the conclusion of the detectives. The observation was that all the metadata on those numbers were entirely comprised of calls made to and from each other. The conclusion was that the numbers were likely connected to Haynes’ illegal drug business. Both the observation and the conclusion caused Cassidy to be ever more interested in the person, or persons, in possession of those cellphones. Her concerns about the validity of an illegal drug enterprise added fuel to that interest. In Cassidy’s mind, a large-scale illegal drug business did not fit Haynes’ character. Her skepticism led her thought processes to consider ways to investigate those numbers further. She shortly began to realize just how difficult it was to unmask prepaid cellphone owners.

Owners of prepaid phones were by design not listed by name in any phone company, and inactive cellphones were undetectable. She suspected this difficulty to be one of the reasons why the detectives gave no further attention to the numbers. The absence of an obvious connection, or even a less than obvious one, to the murders was likely a second reason for not making the effort. To Cassidy, both these reasons were irrelevant. The pattern of prepaid numbers appearing, and disappearing, was a mystery that Cassidy’s character could not allow to go unanswered.

Because she could think of no way to learn the names connected to the prepaid phone numbers, Cassidy turned her attention to the general location that the calls came from. This was the only information she hoped to find in this metadata. Cassidy knew from experience that cell phone companies collected cell site data on all phone calls and discarded the information about forty-five days later, so she turned her attention to the most recent calls.

“Can you get me the addresses where these calls originated?” Cassidy asked while extending a printout of the cellphone metadata to Nina Chan.

Nina Chan was the 122nd in house technical analyst. The precinct went to her for information, explanations and investigative direction on all things electronic. Her appearance did not reflect her 33 years of age and 7 years of experience in the NYPD. People who met her for the first time commonly mistook her to be in her mid-twenties. Cassidy thought of her as one of her closest friends.

“This doesn’t work like g-p-s,” Nina said after taking the data. “The best I can do is triangulate down to an area as small as a city block. In addition, I might be able to guesstimate the likely sector of that block by comparing the strength of the reception in each cell tower.”

That was more information than Cassidy needed to know. She suppressed a laugh and then responded to Nina's offer.

“Okay, let’s do that,” Cassidy encouraged.

Nina examined the nine calls and the attached cell site data. She noted that seven of the calls registered on the same four cell towers.

“Seven of these calls are probably coming from the same place,” Nina reported as she set the paper down and began typing into her computer.

It took Nina less than a minute to bring up a map with all the highlighted cell tower sites in New York City. She quickly moved in on an area and circled a location on it with her finger.

“These seven calls originated from somewhere in here,” Nina said as she circled an area in Brooklyn near Newtown Creek. “With this information, I can’t pin it down any closer than this.”

Cassidy moved closer to study the map. Her memory of the area told her that it was an industrial zone and that there were few homes in the vicinity. She immediately made plans to research all the businesses and their owners in that area of Brooklyn.

“These two calls appear to have come from an identical location as well,” Nina reported as she examined the metadata on the paper. “But they originated in Manhattan.”

“Show me,” Cassidy instructed as she moved back from the computer.

Nina began typing into the computer again. Shortly, the image of the map slid from left to right. When the image stopped, Midtown Manhattan filled the screen and five cellphone towers were highlighted. Nina studied the strength of reception from each tower and then circled an area within the midst of all five.

“The calls probably came from somewhere in here,” Nina said with a circular motion of her finger.

Cassidy was now even more intrigued than by the Brooklyn site. As she moved closer to examine the map, she fixed her stare on a single point within the area that Nina circled.

“Do you see something,” Nina inquired after noting Cassidy’s extreme interest on the site.

“Yeah,” Cassidy acknowledged as she continued to stare. “I see The Cavern.”

The Cavern was not only situated within the midst of all five cellphone towers. It was in the middle of the area that Nina singled out.

“What’s The Cavern?” Nina asked.

“I have to go,” Cassidy returned in a hurry. “Thanks Nina.”

Cassidy snatched up the paper with the list of cellphone metadata and hurried off toward Lt. Graham’s office.

"Lieutenant, I think I may have found a new lead in the Greenbelt murders," Cassidy announced as she hurried into Lt. Graham's office. "We need to reactivate the case."

Lt. Graham was reading a case file when Cassidy stormed in. He stopped to listen to what she had to say. When she finished, he paused to give her assertion a moment of thought.

"What do think you've found?" Lt. Graham asked with a hint of exasperation.

"Haynes may have been secretly conversing with an accomplice," Cassidy reported with alarm in her voice.

"How?" Lt. Graham challenged.

"The cellphone logs," Cassidy answered energetically. "I think I found a pattern."

"We went through Haynes' phone history number by number," Lt. Graham countered.

"I'm seeing a pattern of calls that I think we should look into."

Lt. Graham was not impressed by Cassidy's claim of a suspicious pattern. He personally supervised a team of four officers as they investigated Haynes' phone contacts. At the end of their effort, he was convinced that Albert Haynes had no acquaintances or connections that were close enough to make that person an accessory to any of his criminal activities. Lt. Graham was convinced that Haynes was the sole perpetrator of those crimes.

"Are you sure you're not just seeing patterns where there are none? Lt. Graham questioned delicately.

Cassidy hesitated to answer his question. She knew that the probability of her being wrong was at the least 50/50. But the idea that she could be right compelled her to push for further investigation.

"I think we need to try to find out who owned these numbers," Cassidy suggested tentatively. "I believe there may be something here."

"What do you think you're going to find?" Lt. Graham asked with a suspicion look.

“The calls that I'm looking at originated in or near a nightclub called The Cavern," Cassidy explained without conviction. "I think we should take a close look at some of the regulars at this club."

Lt. Graham already knew that Cassidy and Alan had visited that club along with many others. This was information he acquired from their daily briefings to him. 

"Are you thinking of someone in particular?" Lt. Graham asked with a curious frown.

Cassidy paused to consider her answer. She had her reservations about naming specific individuals. Her reluctance was because there was a large chance that the whole idea was absurd, so she elected to be noncommittal.

"No, no one in particular."

“I’m not devoting any more time to this investigation,” Lt. Graham declared. “We have the killer, and we have no additional suspects. It’s over, Detective. Leave it alone.”

Cassidy left Lt. Graham’s office. She knew he would not budge from his position without tangible evidence of an accomplice or a credible lead toward something new to be learned. She also knew that her light duty status would prevent her from pursuing her line of reasoning while at work.

As Cassidy was walked out of Lt. Graham’s office, she considered alternate ways of researching more after work. By the end of the day that effort had failed to produce a precise strategy on how to proceed, but it did bring her to one sure conclusion, she had to investigate the staff of The Cavern and any regular patrons of the club across multiple years.

~~~~~LINE BREAK~~~~~

“Honey, what’s going on?” Margaret asked Cassidy with a concerned look.

“I need to research something, that’s all,” Cassidy explained dismissively.

Cassidy arrived at her parents’ home a few minutes before 6 p.m. She did not warn her parents of her intention to come prior to her arrival. The news that she was leaving the kids there overnight, on a Monday, took Margaret and Daniel by surprise. 

“Is this about the Greenbelt?” Daniel challenged.

“No, you’re off that,” Margaret quickly asserted with surprise. “That case is closed.”

Cassidy ignored her mother’s outburst and spoke to her father’s concern.

“I’m just trying to make sense of some loose ends.”

Daniel shook his head with disapproval. Margaret looked from daughter to husband and back again with a confused expression before launching a question.

“How can they be sending you out on an investigation?”

“They’re not,” Daniel corrected with exasperation. “You’re on desk duty. What is this about, Cassidy?”

“I don’t think it’s over, Dad,” Cassidy responded with a frown and a slight shake of her head.

“It’s over when your lieutenant says it’s over,” Daniel corrected sternly.

“This is my case, Dad,” Cassidy disputed. “We still have missing pieces. There are things about Haynes that don’t make sense.”

“There’s no use in trying to make sense of these people, I told you,” Daniel grumbled at his daughter. “They’re all screwed up in the head. You’re never going to understand him. If you keep thinking about this case, you’re just going to make yourself daffy, like those so-called behavioral experts.”

“I don’t want to understand him,” Cassidy argued back. “I just want to know what happened. I want to know who killed these people, and I want to know why.”

Daniel shook his head in disbelief and turned away. He made up his mind to say nothing more on the subject and was resolved to leave his daughter to her mistakes. Margaret was not so inclined. She understood Daniel’s concern for Cassidy’s preoccupation with this investigation. What she did not understand was where she intended to go with it, and what more did she hope to find. She addressed her immediate concern to Cassidy.

“Where are you going?”

“The Cavern.”


	10. A Night Out

Cassidy arrived outside of The Cavern nightclub at half past seven, Monday evening. She did not expect to see the club’s strange group of six regulars or any of the club’s patrons tonight. The club was closed until Thursday evening. The person she expected to see was David Burrell. She had called him earlier that day and requested access to the club’s surveillance videos. When she arrived, David was waiting outside the front doors of the ‘The Cavern.’

“Thank you for doing this,” Cassidy said as she walked up to him.

David turned and opened the front door to the club for Cassidy.

“You made it sound important.”

“It’s time sensitive,” Cassidy corrected dismissively.

Her response was not at all inaccurate. Cassidy knew that the club’s security recordings had a two-week lifespan. She learned that during her first meeting with David Burrell. By her calculation, she knew that she had until the end of the week to recover video of the night that Albert Haynes made the call to the burner phone that may have been inside the club.

David led the way into the vestibule of the club with Cassidy close behind. The emergency exit signs provided the only light, and they did little more than highlight the room’s boundary. The center of the vestibule was barely visible. David walked over to the wall on his left and turned on the lights above the entrance, providing them with enough illumination to see their way across the vestibule. David led the way to the entrance of the main room and turned on the lights above the bar. That gave them more than enough light to guide them to the hallway on the right.

“I heard about your partner,” David broached as he walked down the hallway to his office. “I'm sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” Cassidy returned, slightly detached.

David unlocked the door to his office and pushed it open. He turned on the room’s overhead light and stepped just inside. With David’s gestured invitation, Cassidy followed through to the center of the room.

“I thought the case was closed?” David questioned while closing the office door.

Cassidy quickly came up with a lie she could use.

“We’re just tying up loose ends.”

“Does this Haynes person have a connection with The Cavern?” David asked as he removed his overcoat and moved toward his desk.

At first, Cassidy was without the words to respond. Her training forced her to regard David as a suspect, but her intellect told her that that was next to impossible since he was living in Great Britain when all nine of her victims were being killed. After a moment of thought, she came up with a reply that she felt comfortable with.

“We’re hoping to eliminate The Cavern as a connection.”

David threw his overcoat over the left chair in front of his desk then moved to the opposite side of it. Following his lead, Cassidy removed her overcoat and tossed it on top of his.

“I see,” David returned as he stood behind his desk.

David said nothing more as he turned on his computer and activated the security program inside. In response to a gesture from David, Cassidy moved in beside him and watched as he brought up the program. When it was up and running, he gestured to the chair. Cassidy took the seat behind the desk as David stepped aside.

“How do you pull up the recordings from the Saturday before last?” Cassidy asked after taking a moment to examine the display on the monitor.

David leaned in and pointed to a location on the display.

“Just type in the date and time here and press enter.”

Cassidy wasted no time reacting to his information. She typed in the date for the Saturday before last and a minute before the time that the call from Albert Haynes was made. As the playback started, she watched with her full attention. David noticed her focus and moved to the other side of the desk, leaving her to her task.

“I’m going to be out for a few minutes. If you should need me, just press the button on the phone marked kitchen.”

Cassidy gave David a quick glance as he left the office. Her attention was fixed on the monitor before her and the video playing. The space of time on the video that she examined passed in less than five minutes. The playback showed the entrances to the club, the activity behind the bar and the interior of David’s office. The main room was not visible, nor was the hall outside of the bathrooms. By the end of her viewing, Cassidy was more than a little frustrated by the omissions. She saw no one on a cellphone in the observed areas. The person that received Haynes’ call had to be somewhere outside of those spaces. After a single run through, she concluded that the identities of everyone in the club at the time the call was made had to be acquired and examined. That was the only avenue left to her for identifying the receiver of that call.

Cassidy was not discouraged. She noticed that the strange six regulars were nowhere to be seen in the video during the time of the call. Those were the individuals she most wanted to see. The fact that the call Albert Haynes’ received could be linked to The Cavern put them on the top of her list of suspects. In fact, they were the only suspects that she could refer to by name. Cassidy also noticed that David was in his office during the time the call was made, and he was not on the phone. His continual fall into the realm of implausible suspect enhanced her filling of ease around him.

Cassidy thought about her next move. She adjusted the surveillance recording to the time just after Haynes received the call and began collecting pictures of patrons and employees exiting the club. She put the images into a file she created and labeled each with the time of their capture. A little later, David came back into the office carrying a tray. On top of it was a carafe of coffee, a pair of cups and saucers, a sugar bowl and a small pitcher of cream.

“I hope you’re a coffee drinker,” David said as he set the tray on the end of the desk. “If not, I’m happy to fetch a tea bag and some hot water for you.”

“That wasn’t necessary.”

Cassidy gave the tray a look out the corner of her eyes as she continued collecting pictures.

“You’re my guest,” David returned pleasantly. “It’s a force of habit.”

“Thank you,” Cassidy responded without specifying a preference.

David poured himself a cup of black coffee and then settled into the chair opposite her.

“Are you finding what you’re looking for?”

Cassidy was reluctant to respond. As a police officer, answering questions during an investigation was something she did not do. Plus, her dismissive manner was her way of discouraging David from entertaining romantic thoughts concerning her.

“I’m sorry. Was my question out of line?” David queried after seeing Cassidy’s discomfort.

David’s apology caused Cassidy to feel even more ill at ease. The fact that she was exploiting this man’s kindness while treating him like a suspect was not sitting well with her off duty status. For the first time, she entertained the thought that she owed David Burrell some civility.

“You don’t have to apologize, Mr. Burrell,” Cassidy explained with some frustration. “I’m just not comfortable giving out information about an investigation.”

“So, you do think there’s a connection with someone here and the killer?” David asked with a fixed stare.

“I didn’t say that,” Cassidy returned defensively.

“No, you didn’t,” David calmly said while giving his guest a studied look.

Cassidy noticed David’s steady look and became upset with herself for speaking sharply. The last thing that she wanted was the start of a rumor that Albert Haynes had an accomplice. She knew such a rumor would not be received well by her superiors, or up the chain of command several levels beyond Lt. Graham. Taking a moment to consider the damage that her words had already caused, Cassidy concluded that anything she might say to undo the damage would have the opposite effect, so she went back to collecting facial images off the security video.

“Will this take long?” David asked after a moment of silence.

The question took Cassidy by surprise. Up until that moment, she did not realize that she was imposing upon David, so she was content to take the time she needed, within reason. The fact that she was continuing an investigation on a suspended case, against the wishes of her superiors, while barred from working in the field, made her actions feel illegitimate. Inconveniencing a private citizen made her feel like a nuisance.

“If you have something to do, I can download what I need and…”

“No,” David quickly corrected. “I have nothing to do. I just thought you might want something to eat. I fancy myself an above average cook.”

“Please, don’t bother,” Cassidy discouraged with a shake of her head.

David got up from his chair despite her declining his offer.

“It’s no bother,” David assured with a smile. “I enjoy cooking, and did I mention that I’m good at it.”

“Are you trying to spoil me, Mr. Burrell?” Cassidy asked with a mildly suspicious look.

“A good entrepreneur is always trying to spoil a potential customer, Detective Tremaine.” David responded with a vaguely devilish grin.

“I can afford to buy my own food,” Cassidy returned with a suspicious scowl.

“There’s no hidden agenda, Detective.” David reported nonchalantly. “I would be doing this for you even if you weren’t a woman—and attractive,”

Cassidy was caught off guard by his remark and was hesitant to respond to it. 

“Men always have an agenda.”

“I suspect that would be a wasted effort on you, Detective Tremaine” David retorted with a wide smile.

His remark and smile riled Cassidy's suspicion, so with a dubious look directed at David, she asked the obvious question.

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t think you’re easily swayed by the admiration of men,” David explained with an assessing squint.

Cassidy did not find his reply offensive. She relaxed and responded more sociably.

“I’m not accustomed to being admired by men.”

“I don’t believe that for an instant, Detective Tremaine,” David quickly contradicted.

David’s expression turned quizzical as he finished his thought on the subject.

“I think it’s more like you’re not accustomed to being adored by a man. And if it did happen, I suspect he let you down.”

Cassidy was momentarily stunned into silence by this remark. After fighting off a blush, she brought sternness back into her voice.

“Don’t be so sure you know me.”

“I’m not,” David replied with indifference. “But I am fairly sure that you’ve had more than your share of admirers.”

Cassidy gave David a hint of a smile as she glanced out the corner of her eyes, then continued scanning the computer monitor.

“I’m not hungry, Mr. Burrell,” Cassidy said with forced pleasantry. “Thank you.”

David returned to his seat in the chair opposite Cassidy. He was not dismayed by Cassidy’s sharp rebuke. His expression looked to be one of indifference as he sat back in his seat while crossing his legs and arms. Cassidy noticed his movements out of concern for his feelings. When she saw that he was undamaged by her words, she went back to collecting faces of individuals off the security video.

Cassidy began to realize that the number of patrons she would have to investigate was becoming excessive. She concluded that identity searches and background checks on all the occupants inside The Cavern at the time of the call was something that she could not do at work without the knowledge, permission and assistance of Lieutenant Graham and her peers. She marked her conclusion with a sigh.

“Is there something wrong?” David asked.

Once again, Cassidy was confronted with the problem of responding to a question that was not in her nature to answer. She studied David a moment, then answered with the least offensive reply she could think of.

“No, no, it’s nothing.”

“I’m happy to help if I can,” David returned.

Cassidy considered his offer. She entertained the idea that David might have some knowledge of the people on the video, but she was reluctant to take him that deep into her confidence. In the end, she decided the long way was best. The long way meant doing it by herself and in her spare time.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” David asked. “It looked like you ran into a problem.”

A third request on the same subject was just enough to annoy Cassidy. She never liked having her decisions questioned. It suggested that the other person knew better than she. Her reaction to such affronts were always the same. Her defenses went up and her responses were laced with exasperation.

“I’m fine, Mr. Burrell. You know what, I think I am going to take a copy of this recording with me. Do you have a disk I can use?”

“Sure,” David answered with a smile.

David got up from his chair, walked around to the back of the desk and opened the lower desk drawer to the left of Cassidy. From it, he retrieved a container of computer disks and set them down on top of the desk.

Once again, Cassidy was embarrassed by her words and attitude. Her repeated abashment was an additional annoyance to her. She did not care for being flummoxed by anyone. People that made her feel flawed or ineffectual were perpetual irritations, and she generally disliked them. It always reinforced the way she behaved in that person’s presence, but here, it was turning out to be an unworkable remedy with David Burrell. He was quickly becoming the worst annoyance she had ever known—not because of the way he treated her, but because she could not find it in herself to dislike him.

After taking a deep breath to center herself, Cassidy retrieved one of the disks from the container, inserted it into the computer and began the process of recording the footage that she wanted. Cassidy deftly manipulated the program that started the recording process. David returned to his chair and watched. While she manipulated the program, he thought to ask her a new question.

“What motivates an attractive woman to become a homicide detective? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Talking about herself was something that Cassidy never cared to do with people she did not know or was inclined to keep at a distance. Despite her practice, she felt no compulsion to deflect David off the subject. His pleasant manner made her feel at ease, and she appreciated the fact that it steered him away from what she was doing.

“It runs in the family,” Cassidy returned while holding her focus on the computer monitor.

“Your parents are police officers?” David inquired.

“Just my father and a couple of uncles,” Cassidy explained while continuing to hold her attention to the computer monitor. “I also have two brothers on the force.”

“So, this is about daddy's little girl competing with her brothers for the admiration of her father,” David surmised behind an appraising look.

Cassidy turned her attention toward David behind his remark, but it was not annoyance that diverted her attention. For the first time, she was intrigued by the conversation. Now she fixed her full attention on David.

"Are you psychoanalyzing me, Mr. Burrell?" Cassidy asked.

"A little, maybe,” David answered with a smile. “You interest me, Detective Tremaine."

"Well, you're wrong,” Cassidy corrected with an obvious flair of indifference. “If I was desperate for my father's admiration, I wouldn't have joined the NYPD.”

"So, your father disapproves of you being a police detective?" David questioned her.

Cassidy took a moment to ponder the question with a blank expression before responding.

“Actually, he would disapprove far more if I was still a uniformed officer. As far as he's concerned, that's where the real men work. My father was a beat cop for twenty-four years. My brothers are beat cops as well. I'm the only detective in the family.”

"Ambitious—no," David said and then quickly corrected. "Competitive..."

"Is that a bad a thing?" Cassidy asked suspiciously.

"No, not at all," David answered with a smile.

"But it's not attractive in a woman?" Cassidy queried with a scowl.

"I think that depends upon who you ask," David countered still smiling at her.

Cassidy was immediately embarrassed and flattered by the attention she was getting from David. She had no response for his remark other than a brief blush. Shortly, she turned her attention back to the computer monitor and started the process of reconstructing her defenses and professional manner. For the next several seconds there was silence.

“So, is it Miss or Mrs. Tremaine?” David gently asked after a time.

“Detective Tremaine and I’m divorced,” Cassidy answered with a glance toward David and renewed defiance.

“Really?” David questioned with surprise.

Cassidy noted the tone of his response.

“That surprises you?”

“You just look a little young to be a divorcee,” David explained.

“It happens,” Cassidy returned without taking the time to think about it. “He’s a mistake.”

“It sounds like he’s still in the picture,” David said while contemplating Cassidy’s reply.

Cassidy paused to consider how her answer had given him that impression. She then concluded that the die was cast and elected to explain why James was still in her life.

“We have children,” Cassidy said. “Two—joint custody. He gets them the first full weekend of the month when school is in and two weeks over the summer.”

“How old…?” David began.

“I’m not talking about my children,” Cassidy interrupted with a definitive shake of her head.

With his usual politeness, David accepted that subject to be no longer appropriate for small talk. He allowed a silence to grow between them before beginning a new subject.

“Well, since you don’t trust my cooking, Detective Tremaine, can I invite you out for a dinner at a restaurant.”

Cassidy was flustered by the invite, but she hid it almost completely. After a deep breath, she turned her full attention to David and his invitation with a serious expression.

“I’m flattered, Mr. Burrell, but I’m not…”

“Flattered?” David interrupted with mild surprise. “No, I was just hoping to find out why you’re so interested in my club.”

Cassidy was made visibly embarrassed by David’s challenge to her assumption. She caught her breath behind a startled expression. An instant later, she began fumbling out words in search of an explanation.

“Oh, I um, I thought…”

Cassidy cut short her explanation in response to the wry smile that quickly spread across David’s face. She immediately returned her conduct back to professional defenses and her general inclination of defiance.

“You have every right to be flattered, Detective Tremaine,” David extolled with a slight grin. “I was hitting on you. But that doesn’t mean I’m not interested in knowing why you’re here.”

Cassidy relaxed behind his confession. Her embarrassment suddenly became a source of amusement for her. She recognized David’s deception as a joke at her expense and returned his smile without reluctance.

“Thanks, but I’m not hungry, Mr. Burrell,” Cassidy answered with some sass.

Cassidy turned her attention back to the computer monitor with her smile still in place. She was not long into her refocus when David tossed out a new query.

“Not ever?”

Cassidy recognized the question as a challenge to her declaration that she was not hungry. His smug expression suggested that he was toying with her, and she liked it. She felt disarmed by David’s attention, and despite her best effort, she did not want it to end.

“I’m not hungry tonight, Mr. Burrell,” Cassidy answered with a smile.

“So, there’s hope for the future,” David quickly responded.

“Mr. Burrell, I don’t want to get your hopes up,” Cassidy deflected with a smile.

“Then you shouldn’t have walked into my life, Detective Tremaine,” David countered without hesitation.

Cassidy released a short, constrained chortle. Afterward, she gave David an amused look then responded to his remark beneath a failed effort to hide her amusement.

“Well then, I'm sorry for having to disappoint you.”

“Such is the life of a lonely bachelor,” David countered dejectedly.

Cassidy lost the ability to contain her amusement. She looked away for a moment and shook her head as she gave way to a muffled giggle. With renewed control, she turned her attention back to David with a smile.

“I find it hard to picture you as a lonely bachelor.”

“Appearances can be deceiving,” David retaliated with feigned sincerity.

“Are you trying to work on my sympathy, Mr. Burrell?” Cassidy questioned with a forced look of disapproval.

“I’m trying to win your affection, Detective Tremaine,” David answered in a soft voice and a faint smile.

At that moment, Cassidy was both flattered and agitated. She knew her job was the only thing restraining her from entertaining this man’s advances, but her job came first, and that reality played a part in every response she gave. She looked away to hide her blushing smile. A moment later, she wrestled herself for control and responded with a blank expression.

“I can’t get involved right now.”

“Can you eat lunch?” David asked back pleasantly.

“I eat lunch occasionally,” Cassidy answered with a nod and a smile.

“Can you make small talk?” David asked with continued gentility.

“When I have to,” Cassidy answered with a definite smile.

“Can you laugh?” David asked in his usual manner.

“When I hear something funny,” Cassidy answered with a small chuckle.

“Then have lunch with me, Detective Tremaine?” David asked earnestly. “Just lunch,” he continued with a wide smile. “Lunch is the universal tryout date. I absolve you of any obligation to get involved.”

Cassidy was amused by David and his invitation. Her inclination to entertain his attention doubled. She had not reveled in the attention of a man since before her first born, seven years earlier. And even then, it did not feel like this. Cassidy had long since relegated James into the category of a protest love. He was everything that the exquisitely attractive, smoothly articulate, perfectly manicured man of her dreams was not. James was rugged, athletic, and he used blunt language. Those were characteristics that she once believed would make James a better husband than any charismatic playboy. David Burrell was the type of man she told herself not to want and believed she could never have.

“Okay, Mr. Burrell, if you like,” Cassidy agreed without a smile. “But it will have to wait until I'm done doing this.”

“And exactly what are you doing, Detective Tremaine?” David asked.

“I told you. We’re just tying off some loose ends,” Cassidy evaded.

“We? I don’t see anyone here but you,” David gently challenged.

“It’s my case,” Cassidy defended.

“I thought the NYPD put you on administrative leave after the shooting,” David mused aloud. “Did I hear wrong?”

Cassidy’s feelings of romance were suddenly replaced by exasperation. She did not like that David was peeling away her deception. Her reply was tinged with annoyance.

“I’m back at work as of today.”

“And now you have an assignment, without backup, without a warrant and without DVR disks,” David pointed out in a questioning tone.

Cassidy went silent for several seconds behind David’s remark. She finally surmised that she had no other choice but to come clean with what she is doing. It seemed obvious to her that David had his suspicions about her search through his surveillance video. She thought it best to tell him the truth in the hope that she could procure his silence at the same time.

“I’m not convinced that Albert Haynes worked alone,” Cassidy confessed flatly.

“And you believe this confederate is in some way connected with my club?” David questioned with concern.

Cassidy was hesitant to go further than she had, but she soon concluded that she had gone too far to worry about the rest. Her only concern was for the prevention of rumors. She felt confident that David could be trusted not to speak of this if she brought him in on her suspicion. 

“During the Saturday night, before last, a call was made to Albert Haynes from a phone at this location. I’m trying to find out who made that call.”

“Was it to a house phone?” David asked with surprise.

“No,” Cassidy answered. “It was a to burner phone. To identify the person who made it, I need to see him, or her, making the call.”

“And that’s why you’re looking through my surveillance recordings,” David returned with a nod of understanding.

“There are no cameras in the main room or most of the public spaces inside the club, so I’m going to have to go about this another way,” Cassidy explained.

“And what way is that?” David asked with interest.

Cassidy took in a deep breath and let it out behind a frown before responding.

“I’m going to have to identify everyone who was in The Cavern when that call was made and do a background check on each of them.”

“Does that include me?” David asked with a start.

“You were recorded,” Cassidy informed with a point to the surveillance camera on the side wall. “You were here when the call was made, and you weren’t on the phone for at least five minutes on either side of the time of the call.”

“That’s a relief,” David returned.

“The problem I’m facing right now is identification,” Cassidy pondered. “There’s more than three-dozen people in this recording.”

David noticed Cassidy’s concern about the numbers. He could see that she perceived that to be a major problem, and an obvious solution quickly came to him.

“Can’t the police do searches using the images of faces?”

Cassidy barely gave the question a thought before answering it with a despondent intonation.

“Not without notifying my Lieutenant, and I’m under orders to leave this case alone.”

“He can do that?” David asked with a confused look.

“While I’m on desk duty, yeah,” Cassidy explained. “Right now, I’m just a file clerk with a badge.”

David considered Cassidy’s situation for a moment when another idea came to him.

“Well, I can’t give you background, but I can get you the names of most of the people who were in the club that night. And I can probably get you the name of someone who knows the persons that I can’t identify. Would that help?”

“How can you do that?” Cassidy asked with suspicion and intrigue.

“The staff should be able to affix names to the regulars,” David answered nonchalantly. “I can match up credit card receipts with the tables and the times. And the waiters and waitresses always remember the tables where a patron sat, so who sat where won’t be a problem.”

Cassidy’s spirit brightened a little. She knew that it was not a perfect solution, but it did have the luxury of putting a portion of the workload on someone else. After taking a moment to consider his proposal, she responded with a question.

“You would do that?”

“Yes,” David answered with a shrug. “But I will want something in return.”

“What?” Cassidy asked surprised and suspicious.

“On our lunch date, you have to call me David.”

Cassidy’s concession to his condition came in the form of a smile then a grin. 


	11. A Night to Forget

That Monday night, Cassidy spent more than three hours inside The Cavern Nightclub. She watched as David filtered through a stack of credit card receipts. He found only seven names that he could match up to a face in his surveillance video. That number included the six regulars that Cassidy already knew about. The nightclub staff was excluded from his search as he was able to gather their names and addresses from his employee file cabinet and give them to Cassidy. Together, they counted the faces of thirty-seven patrons that had to be in the club at the time of the call. Thirty of those names were unknown to David. He advised Cassidy that she would have to return Thursday evening when the staff was there to help put names to the other thirty faces.

"They'll be able to put names to some of these faces, and they should be able to tell me at what table they were sitting. Once I have that I can connect faces to credit card receipts."

Cassidy accepted that that was the best she could get for now and set off for home. She went to work the next day with the names and addresses of The Cavern employees, the name of one patron and the images of thirty faces that were in the club at the time of the call from Haynes. The employees, and the one patron, were people she planned to run background checks on. And the images of the thirty patrons were destined to be uploaded into a facial recognition program.

To Cassidy, neither of those efforts had much of a chance for producing a suspect. She knew that most of the employees of The Cavern did not have the age or employment years to be a good fit for the crimes. And experience told her that the images of the patrons were too vague, and the angles too acute for a good match to anyone in the State's motor vehicle and criminal databases. Despite that, she believed she had to follow up for the sake of thoroughness. The six regulars to booth three were excluded from her side project. She had already run the backgrounds on them. Without evidence that connected them to Albert Haynes or the victims, she believed the only way forward here was through face-to-face interrogations.

Cassidy's hope was attached to the list of names she expected to get from David Burrell Thursday evening. She knew that if she could connect one of those names to a business or residence in the vicinity where the call **(originated?)** then she would have a solid suspect. If none of them had a connection, then the booth three regulars would look even more suspicious. But she was two days away from making that assessment. She was advised by David that he would not be able to gather the names until his whole staff was back inside the club. He expected that to occur on Thursday, the first day of the club’s weekend run. In the meantime, Cassidy planned to research what she could whenever possible at work, but because of her new duties as the squad room ready-secretary, she anticipated **little time for her side project**.

By Thursday evening, Cassidy had completed as much of her side project as she could. The employees of The Cavern proved to be improbable participants in the Greenbelt Nine murders, and the facial recognition program did not produce one solid match to the facial images from the night club’s surveillance videos. However, those failures had no effect on Cassidy’s spirit. She had high hopes that her meeting with David Burrell later that evening would give her something significant to investigate. When her workday was finished, she hurried home to prepare for her meeting.

For the second time that week, Cassidy took her children to her parents’ home to spend the night. She went back home to dress for her meeting and then immediately set off for The Cavern. Cassidy walked into the club shortly past seven-thirty that evening. To make herself look like a patron, she dressed herself in a black crepe midi skater’s dress with a plunging neckline and spaghetti straps, and black ankle strap stiletto heels. She wore a modest amount of makeup: blush and eyeshadow with eyeliner accenting her eyes and bold red lipstick to punctuate her face. Her usual short, soft wavy hair was brushed away from her face, and a thin pair of silver and crystal drop-earrings dangled beneath the waves of her hair. A small black purse connected to a silver chain strap completed her ensemble.

Cassidy had no fixed plan when she dressed herself, but she did have an option in mind that she wanted to keep open. David first noticed the embellishment to her face and hair with a smile. When Cassidy removed her overcoat, he acknowledged the rest of her attire with a slight bow in unison with his greeting.

"Good evening, Mrs. Tremaine."

David inferred from Cassidy’s ensemble that the title Detective would not be appropriate for the night, and in that he was not wrong. Cassidy was amenable to his formal address but for one correction.

"It's Ms., not Mrs.,” Cassidy advised. “Tremaine is my maiden name.”

David took Cassidy’s coat and checked it into the cloakroom. He then led her into the main room of the nightclub. As they made their way through the room, Cassidy took note of the band performing at the front of the room, the sparsely filled room of patrons and the absence of any of the booth three regulars.

“Is it always this empty on Thursdays?” Cassidy asked as she followed David’s lead.

“It should pick up a little later,” David explained. “Fridays and Saturdays are our busiest nights.”

Cassidy accepted his report without remark as she followed him to his office.

“As soon as my staff came in, I had them identify what patrons they could from the night that the call was made,” David explained while leading Cassidy to his chair behind the desk.

David opened a Word program on his computer as Cassidy sat in the chair. Images of the patrons, data about their identities, the tables where they sat, and the people seated with them were all listed.

“I wasn’t able to get all of the names,” David continued. “But we were able to identify more than half and at least one from every table.”

Cassidy took a moment to examine the list. Five of the faces were listed with first names only. Nearly half had first and last names listed.

“This is good for a start. I can do the rest.”

Cassidy retrieved a memory stick from her purse, and after inserting it into David’s computer, she directed the computer to start downloading the data he had compiled. 

“Do you have plans for tonight or is this new look for me?” David asked while the computer worked.

“I wanted to look like a patron, just in case,” Cassidy explained.

“Just in case of what?” David questioned, slightly confused.

“Just in case someone got it into their mind that I’m out of place here,” Cassidy answered.

David gave her answer a smile.

“There is definitely no chance of that tonight.”

Cassidy ignored his comment as she followed the progress of the download. It took several seconds before the load to her memory stick was complete.

“So, am I correct in assuming our collaboration is completed?” David asked as she placed the memory stick back in her purse.

“Yes, you are,” Cassidy confirmed without pause as she got up from her chair and started for the door.

David intercepted her there and opened it.

“Thank you for your help, Mr. Burrell,” Cassidy softly offered as she lingered at the door.

“You’re welcome, Detective Tremaine,” David returned.

After exchanging a look and a nod, Cassidy stepped through the open doorway with David following. They reached the hallway exit and moved through the main room of the club with David steering a path toward the front door of the club. Halfway across the floor, Cassidy came to a stop and focused her attention deep into the room. David moved in beside her and traced her stare to booth three where all six of the regulars were sitting.

“At least one or two of them are usually here on a Thursday night,” David informed her. “It’s unusual to see all six but not surprising.”

Cassidy continued to study the six regulars to booth three. She watched as they listened to the music of the band while intermittently whispering to each other. She studied their faces and mannerisms. She examined the four individuals that were with them, two men and two women. Two of them were seated in the booth, and the other two were in chairs.

“Who are the others?” Cassidy asked while holding her stare.

“I don’t know,” David answered. “But the young lady in beige is familiar. I believe she’s been here several times in the past.”

“Is she always with them?” Cassidy queried with a glance at David.

“I couldn’t say,” David returned “But I doubt it.”

“Why?”

“I believe I would have noticed if that was true,” David explained.

Cassidy squared her gaze back onto the six regulars. Shortly, she noticed the female with the long wavy, light brown hair looking back at her. Cassidy knew her to be Alexandra Hays. She returned Cassidy’s look for a few seconds then leaned over and whispered in Ryan Sandoval’s ear. A moment later, he turned to look at Cassidy as well.

“Uh oh,” David began. “You’ve been noticed.”

“Do they know who I am?” Cassidy asked, turning fully toward David and away from the six regulars.

“If they do, it didn’t come from me or my staff?” David answered.

“How do you know that?” Cassidy asked while holding her attention fully on David.

David’s response was quick and with practiced proficiency.

“My employees are under strict instructions to maintain the trust of our guests. Gossiping about the affairs of others is grounds for termination.”

David gave Cassidy a smile after his answer.

“I also told them not to say anything about you and your partner. You’re not good for business, remember?”

“Yes, I do,” Cassidy returned with a smile.

Cassidy turned back to looked at booth three and the six regulars for several seconds. And they, intermittently, glanced at her.

“I think they find you interesting because you’re standing with me,” David softly explained.

Cassidy wasted no time to ask the question she had been considering for the past several seconds.

“Can you introduce me?”

“You want to meet them?” David asked back with surprise.

“Yes, I want to meet them,” Cassidy replied.

David waited a moment to see if Cassidy would reconsider her answer. When it became clear that she was not, he expressed a thought.

“Okay, but I warn you, they’re conversation can be a little—lewd.”

“I can deal with lewd,” Cassidy returned confidently.

“How should I reference you?” David asked.

“Tell them I’m a friend,” Cassidy returned as though speaking the obvious. “We met three years ago, when I vacationed in England.”

“Were we romantically involved?” David asked with a smile.

Cassidy returned his look with a squint.

“A summer fling—we separated as friends, and we’re renewing our friendship.”

“Our friendship?”

“We’re taking it slow,” Cassidy replied with annoyance. “Can we do this?”

David took the hint and promptly agreed. With a gesture, he encouraged Cassidy to follow him. As he led the way, they saw the six regulars, one after the other, take note of their approach.

“David,” Alexandra spoke up when he got within earshot. “Have you come to join us?”

“Hi,” David greeted the group as he stopped next to the booth. “I’m just here to make sure that you’re enjoying yourselves.”

“We are,” Ryan Sandoval assured. “Who’s your friend?” He asked.

“This is Cassidy Tremaine,” David introduced her as he stepped aside. “She’s an acquaintance from my past.”

“Hello,” Cassidy greeted modestly.

The women at the tables were quick to return Cassidy’s greeting with hellos and large smiles.

“A past love?” Evan Pritchard asked.

Giggles erupted from the men and women in the booth. David responded with a smile of his own. 

“Our first meeting was too brief for that, but I have hope for the future.”

“Oh, I have no doubt of that,” Evan returned with a wide smile.

More giggles and laughter erupted from the group. Ryan Sandoval gave Cassidy a quizzical look.

“I think Ms. Tremaine may have been in here a couple of weeks ago.”

Alexandra nodded excitedly to his observation.

“Yes, I was,” Cassidy confirmed quickly. “I dropped in to say hello to David.”

“I told you,” Alexandra bragged with delight.

Sandoval acknowledge Alexandra’s boast with a smile. Then he greeted Cassidy personally.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ms. Tremaine. Won’t you join us?”

Cassidy feigned a look of reluctance.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

The six regulars, with the help of the additional four, quickly assured her that it would be no intrusion.

“Okay then, I think I will,” Cassidy accepted with a smile.

Cassidy sat down in the open seat created when the regulars scooted to the left in the booth.

“What are you drinking?” Ronald Hollis inquired after Cassidy settled in her seat.

“A white wine would be nice,” Cassidy politely responded.

David promptly agreed to take care of it and set off to do so. No sooner had David turned away did the group begin to introduce themselves to Cassidy. She was fully aware of the names of the six regulars, but she pretended as though she did not. One-by-one she greeted Ryan Sandoval, Alexandra Hays, Brooke Chapman, Ronald Hollis, Christine Meyer and Evan Pritchard with a pleasant smile, and they, in turn, were exuberant in their greetings to her. The additional four people, seated in chairs outside of the booth, were Barbara Markowitz, Elliot Copeland, Cora Peterson and Kenneth Dunn. They were pleasant but less enthusiastic. Cassidy had seen Ryan Sandoval, Alexandra Hays, Brooke Chapman and Ronald Hollis in the club the first time she was there. But Christine Meyer and Evan Pritchard were new to her.

“So, Ms. Tremaine, what do you do?” Ryan asked pleasantly.

Ryan Sandoval was a moderately tall man with handsome features. He was well groomed and conservatively dressed. He wore no tie, his colors were black and gray, and his expressions appeared to vacillate between simply pleasant or a modest grin.

“Cassidy, please,” she offered Ryan. 

Ryan tipped his head and smiled at Cassidy’s correction and waited for her answer to his question. Cassidy wasted no time providing a fictitious answer. She used her mother’s occupation because it was so familiar to her.

“I’m a schoolteacher, fourth graders.”

“Really?” Brooke questioned with surprise. “I always think of schoolteachers as staid, proper and unattractive for the most part. Obviously, I’ve gotten it all wrong.”

A few giggles spread throughout the booth in response to Brooke’s observation.

“Well, I’m happy to disappoint you,” Cassidy returned with a smile.

“Oh, you’re no disappointment,” Brooke returned.

Again, giggles and laughs broke out. Brooke smiled broadly.

Brooke Chapman was an average looking young woman. Her face was pleasant to look at and her shoulder length brunette hair hung down in long soft waves. She wore a red minidress with a cool and mischievous demeanor.

“This is a late night for a schoolteacher, isn’t it?” Ronald queried with a confused look.

Ronald Hollis was a thin, well-groomed man of average height with substantially less than handsome features. His blond hair was cut short along the sides and back and was noticeably longer on top. He wore a dark suit with a colorful handkerchief protruding from his breast pocket all paired with a dark pattern shirt and tie.

“Very late,” Cassidy answered in response to Ronald’s question. “But I’m taking Friday off, and I understand Thursdays are slow nights. So, this is a good time to visit with David.”

“Thursdays are slow,” Alexandra agreed dismally. “This is my least favorite night. I like it when the place is full of people and excitement.”

Alexandra’s long single braid was gone. Cassidy recalled seeing it the first time she saw her. Tonight, her long blond hair was unbound and hung loose about her head in soft curls. She was youthfully pretty with a bubbly demeanor. She wore a colorful minidress that matched her personality.

“Somebody is playing hooky from school,” Evan playfully announced.

Again, there were laughs and giggles from around the table. Christine Meyer waited for the mirth to die down then leaned in to add her comment.

“Someone needs to spend time in detention.”

Christine Meyer was visibly above average in height for a woman and unquestionably attractive. Her long blond hair hung straight down about a half foot below her shoulders. Her facial features were undistinctive but elegantly proportioned and balanced. Her partner, Evan Pritchard, was equal to her height. He was an attractive man with a modest mustache and goatee adorning his face. Crowning his look was a well coifed thick mane of dark hair. He dressed to accentuate his attributes, wearing a three-piece, dark gray pinstriped suit with a light gray vest tied together with a bright white shirt and a bold red tie and matching breast pocket handkerchief. A diamond stud sparkled from his left ear.

“You’re right, I should,” Cassidy agreed with the detention joke. “I’m planning to call in sick so that I can turn this into a three-day weekend.”

There were more giggles, but they quickly subsided.

“We won’t tell anyone.” Ryan moderately whispered with a conspiratorial glance about the table.

“No, we won’t tell,” Alexandra gleefully agreed.

Laughter and agreements came from all around the table. Ronald interrupted the tail end of this mirth to address Cassidy.

“So, how late do you plan to stay out, Cassidy?”

“I don’t know,” Cassidy answered with a shrug. “I haven’t thought about it.”

“You should join us,” Ronald suggested with a smile. “We always have a little get-together when we leave here.”

“Oh yes, you must come,” Alexandra urged with excitement.

Cassidy paused to consider the invite. As she did, Christine, Brooke, Ryan and Evan spoke up in near unison encouraging her to come.

“Our get-togethers are great fun,” Christine added when all the others were done. “Aren’t they, Barbara?”

“Yes, they’re the best,” Barbara Markowitz agreed with a suggestive smile.

“Okay,” Cassidy responded after a moment of thought. “I will.”

“Yippee!” Alexandra exclaimed with a light, brief clap of her hands.

“What are we celebrating?” David asked as he set a white wine down in front of Cassidy.

“Cassidy is joining us for one of our late-night get-togethers,” Alexandra answered with enthusiasm.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” David questioned Cassidy with a dubious look. “I’ve heard rumors that their get-togethers tend to lean toward the—risqué.”

“David! You make me blush,” Christine complained with feigned modesty.

Brief laughter erupted around the table.

“We like to give our friends the freedom to enjoy themselves. But their pleasure is always of their own making. We simply provide the—ambiance,” Ryan informed Cassidy.

“Ambiance, I like that,” Brooke said approvingly.

“Well said, Ryan.” Evan agreed.

Again, laughter and giggles spilled out from around the table. Ronald looked to Cassidy and added his support for Ryan’s assessment.

“We’re very good at providing ambiance.”

Cassidy pretended to study Ronald and Ryan for a moment. She had already made up her mind. But before she voiced her decision, David leaned over to Cassidy and cut in with his opinion.

“It’s the ambiance that worries me.”

Cassidy thought a little more and decided that she was not worried.

“I’ll be fine, David.”

“Yes, Burrell,” Ryan supported. “She’ll be fine. Don’t be so protective.”

Laughter resounded around the table. David acquiesced with a shrug.

“Okay then. Try not to have too much fun,” David sighed.

“Is that possible?” Christine challenged with a grin.

Brooke and Evan were quick to agree with Christine’s inquiry.

“But you must come with, David.” Alexandra eagerly tossed out.

Everyone at the table immediate supported the idea of David’s attendance—the ladies more so than the men.

“Yes, David, do come,” Brooke urge suggestively.

“No, I think not,” David responded, shaking his head.

“Cassidy, you must convince him,” Christine urged. “David never comes to our get-togethers.”

Cassidy noticed everyone’s entreaties to get David to come, but she was not surprised to see it happening. By her estimation, David was the most attractive man in the room, and she had little doubt that the ladies agreed with her assessment. She considered the idea of having a partner by her side, but she loathed the idea of bringing a civilian along with her.

“I’m sure I can’t convince David to do anything he doesn’t want to do,” Cassidy deflected.

“I think you underestimate yourself,” Ryan countered slyly.

“I agree,” Christine seconded. “I think David would be willing do anything to please you.”

“I prefer not to play with David’s affections like that,” Cassidy replied, looking at Christine.

With a smile on her face, Christine returned Cassidy’s gaze for a moment and then turned her attention to David.

“Are you really going to leave your fair lady alone to our wicked designs?”

“Cassidy can make her own decisions,” David responded nonchalantly. “Besides, I have a business to manage.”

“Excuses, excuses,” Brooke challenged with a scowl. “I think you’re afraid of us. We won’t bite, unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

The last part of that remark produced laughter from around the table. Even David chuckled.

“The truth is I prefer not to mingle with my patrons. I wouldn’t want to start having feelings of guilt about gouging them.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t feel guilty about that, David,” Alexandra teased suggestively. “I would be happy to pay more—much more.”

Their conversation produced more laughter.

“I think he’s embarrassed. Did we embarrass you, David?” Christine teasingly chimed in.

David gave the question a slight grin.

“I think I have work to do.”

David then looked at Cassidy before bidding her farewell.

“Call me.”

“Okay,” Cassidy agreed.

David gave her a slight bow and walked away.

~~~~~LINE BREAK~~~~~

At just past 3 a.m., Cassidy parked her car in the driveway outside of her home. The street was quiet. The lights inside the homes lining either side of the street were all off. For some reason, it all felt unnatural to Cassidy. After taking a moment to figure out why it felt wrong, she realized that she did not remember the drive home. She knew that it happened, but the details were missing. The more she tried to clear the fog from her mind, the greater her fugue state became. She decided to focus her thoughts back to The Cavern: she remembered her meeting with David and the details of it; she remembered the list of names she got from him, and the memory stick in her purse. To verify that memory, she quickly twisted in her seat and reached for her purse which brought a strange sensation to her attention. She was wet. It was a feeling that she likened to how she felt after having sex with someone. The shock caused her to quickly put her hands on her hips, checking if her panties were still on. Confirming that her clothes were still intact did not dispel her wonder about how and when she became aroused or if it happened at all.

After some thought, Cassidy began to wonder about the state of her mind. It seemed abnormal for her to not remember the drive home. The fact that she was home and behind the wheel confirmed the sensation that she drove home. She decided to put the thought aside for later. She hoped that sleep and a new day would return her mind to its usual sharpness. The simple process of getting out of her car and closing the door behind her added to her feeling that something was amiss. She felt that it was too quiet. The streets seemed too still for that time of the night. She walked toward the front of her house with all her senses attuned to her surroundings. She was a step away from turning up her walkway when she noticed a shadow of movement across her bay window. That was the first indication to her that a light was on somewhere in her house. That was something she knew should not be. She remembered very clearly turning off the lights before she left.

Cassidy stopped in her tracks when she saw the movement. She slowly brought her gun out from her purse and slowly began to approach the house. She silently collected input from all sectors of her field of vision. No movement was too small or sound too faint to ignore. It took her several seconds longer than usual to reach the front door. She stopped there to listen for sounds from inside.

From the beginning, Cassidy weighed the possibility that a member of her extended family could be inside. She examined the street for her parents’ or brothers’ cars but saw nothing that looked familiar. She still was not convinced that someone she knew was not inside. The street was lined with cars. She entertained the possibility that their car was parked further down the street. Despite that idea, it did not make sense for anyone to be inside her house while she and her children were not home.

Cassidy tried the front door and found it unlocked. She pushed it slightly open and went through the narrow gap with her gun leading the way. She was just on the other side of the doorway when she figured out the light was coming from the second-floor hall and possibly a room. She moved slowly and quietly across the family room and up to the foot of the stairs. She heard movement in Cynthia’s room and began to quietly ascend the stairs. She was three steps away from the second-floor landing when a man walked out of her daughter’s room. Cassidy aimed her gun at the center of the torso that suddenly appeared in front of her.

“There you are,” James scolded after stepping into the hall. “Where the hell have you been?”

James Petrucci came to a stop down the hall from Cassidy. He was holding a thin hardcover book in his left hand with a scowl fixed across his face.

“What are you doing in here,” Cassidy shouted back before James could finish speaking. “I could have shot you.”

“Cynthia, our daughter,” James spat back. “Remember her? She called me from your parents’ house and said she needed some story book for school tomorrow. Why are the kids with your parents’? And where the hell have you been?”

“You shouldn’t be in here,” Cassidy yelled back. “How did you get in?”

“I used my key.”

“You don’t have a key,” Cassidy insisted. “I changed the locks.”

“I’m not going to be locked out of a house where my children are living,” James countered forcefully.

“You son of a bitch.”

James ignored Cassidy’s insult and steered their talk back to the subject that interested him.

“Where have you been? What are you doing?”

“That’s none of your business,” Cassidy answered defiantly.

“When you’re abandoning our children to be raised by your parents, it is my business,” James argued back.

Cassidy took strong objection to his accusation.

“I’m not abandoning the kids. It was one night.”

“It was a weeknight—a school night,” James raged back. “Cynthia said that you were working. What the hell kind of work are you doing at three o’clock at night?”

“Three?” Cassidy questioned with a start.

Cassidy quickly raised her arm to look at her watch. She noted the time with surprise. By her reckoning, it should be no later than eleven.

“Yes, three,” James confirmed angrily.

Cassidy took a moment to absorb the information about the time, then she responded to James’ inquiry.

“I was researching a case.”

“What case?” James challenged.

“That’s none of your business,” Cassidy shot back defensively.

“Bullshit!” James roared. “What kind of case requires you to dress like that.”

“I didn’t want to look like a cop,” Cassidy explained with frustration.

“So, you were working undercover?” James questioned with a look of incredulity.

“I was doing research,” she responded defensively.

James did not hesitate to challenge her defense.

“That’s a load of crap, Cassidy. You’re on light duty. You don’t have any cases.”

“My cases are mine,” Cassidy yelled back. “And don’t question me about what I do on my time.”

“And the lipstick,” James challenged with a smug look.

“What about it?” Cassidy challenged with a so-what look.

“It’s smeared,” James answered with disdain. “Was that part of your effort to not look like a cop.”

Cassidy quickly moved to a nearby mirror hanging on the wall and noticed that her lipstick was slightly smeared. She thought for a moment and then responded with a lie.

“That’s nothing. It’s an accident.”

“Right, an accident,” James responded in disbelief. “Damn it, Cassidy, isn’t it a little late to be turning into a slut?”

Cassidy wasted no time responding to his query with a sharp and venomous counter.

“You made the transition without any problem.”

James took a moment to fume over her response. He then changed his line of attack with vindictiveness.

“If you can’t take care of our kids, then maybe they should be with me.”

Cassidy almost laughed. She knew that James was happy with his return to bachelorhood.

“Oh, don’t you even go there. That’s an empty threat. You don’t have time for our kids in your busy social schedule. Don’t even think about challenging me for custody, because I just might give them to you. And that’s what you don’t want. So, don’t play the dutiful father with me.”

James was visibly flustered with Cassidy. He paused to fume as he stared back at his ex-wife.

“Don’t be so sure you know me.” He grumbled.

Cassidy held his stare before delivering her final declaration.

“Get out!”

James could see that the argument had gone as far as it was going to go. Experience told him that Cassidy was not going to engage with him on this or any other subject now. He took a moment to hold her stare and then he brushed by Cassidy speaking his final words.

“You need to get your head on straight.”


	12. The Warehouse

Cassidy woke up late Friday morning and rushed off to work with just enough time to get there on schedule. The confusion that she experienced the night before was gone. Everything seemed to be as it should, except for her late start. She contributed that to overwork catching up with her. The feeling of lost time that she experienced Thursday night was gone. She had no memory of ever having the sensation nor the argument she had with James. She had no recollection of either ever happening. Sleep had somehow washed away her confusion, cloaking everything that happened after her meeting with David and inducing within her a feeling that all was as it should be.

“Hi, Janice.”

Cassidy was nearly two-hours into her workday when a call came into her station from Dr. Janice McCullough. She saw her name in the caller ID.

“Hi, Cassidy,” Janice returned. “I heard you were back at work and I thought I should give you a call.”

Cassidy thought the last part of Janice’s greeting was unusual. They were friendly with each other, but she never thought of Janice as a close friend and assumed that as a mutual truth for them both. The absence of a call from her over the past twelve days kind of confirmed that thought for Cassidy, so she had no reason to expect a personal call from her now.

“Yeah, I came back Monday, but I’m on desk duty until the end of the shooting review.”

“That’s standard procedure,” Janice replied sympathetically.

There was a momentary awkward silence that followed causing Cassidy to believe that there was more to her call than a welcome back greeting. After coming to that conclusion, Cassidy resolved to draw out her real reason for calling.

“Is there something I can do for you?”

“I wasn’t sure if I should bother you with this,” Janice hesitantly began. “This is something that I’ve been sitting on for more than a week.”

“And what is that?” Cassidy encouraged.

Janice paused momentarily then decided to continue.

“I saw the doctor’s report on Albert Haynes. They noted something that—surprised me.”

“What?” Cassidy asked with concern.

“The attending doctor noted that Haynes had a pair of tiny puncture wounds, slightly more than an inch apart, on the inside of his right arm, just above the wrist.”

Cassidy needed to hear no more to understand why Janice had called. The wound she described was similar to the wounds found on five of the nine bodies found in the Greenbelt and in identical locations on two of them.

“The injuries were well into the process of healing,” Janice continued. “It was an incidental notation. The doctor thought nothing of it. I only mention it because it caught my attention.”

“Did you examine the wounds?” Cassidy asked sharply.

“On what grounds?” Janice questioned back. “The injuries played no part in his death. They were at least a day old and they appeared to be superficial.”

“They sound like a match for wounds found on some of the Greenbelt victims,” Cassidy sternly insisted.

“I knew you were going to say that,” Janice mildly retorted. “That is why I was reluctant to tell you.”

“You should have called me, Janice,” Cassidy argued into the phone.

“The case is closed, Cassidy,” Janice responded. “You killed the guy.”

“There could have been accomplices,” Cassidy disputed. “We have to examine those injuries.”

Janice hesitated to respond. She had anticipated everything Cassidy had to say. It was an obvious coincidence, but the similarities of the wounds were not enough to convince her that there was a connection. She had no reason to believe that any of the nine victims were killed by such an injury, and Albert Haynes clearly was not. The only thing that made any of the injuries objects of interest was the absence of an explanation for them.

"I told Lt. Graham about the wounds and he dismissed them," Janice reported in her defense.

"This is my case," Cassidy rebuked. "You should have called me."

Cassidy knew that there was little to no chance of examining Haynes’ injuries now that he was interred. She already knew that Lt. Graham was not going to support a request from her to exhume Haynes’ body. And she believed it even less likely that the precinct captain would agree to it without Lt. Graham’s endorsement. Cassidy was frustrated with the whole situation.

“I thought I should tell you, and I did,” Janice offered apologetically. “If you can get Albert Haynes’ body exhumed I will be happy to examine it. But I can’t support a request to do that without some evidence that links his injuries to the deaths of the Greenbelt Nine. I’m sorry.”

Janice excused herself from the call and went back to work. After hanging up, Cassidy mulled over the news from Janice then went back to processing paperwork that other detectives did not have time to do.

Cassidy was not convinced that the puncture wounds on the Greenbelt Nine, or on Albert Haynes, was germane to the crime she was investigating. But coincidences were annoyances that she felt a need to resolve or prove to be irrelevant before letting them go. In this case, the puncture wounds had yet to meet either one of her criteria. Despite her irritation, she put the matter behind her and concentrated onto her duties at work and the list of names she got from David Burrell. Nearly an hour later, a new report was brought to her attention.

“Cassidy,” Nina Chan called as she snatched open the Information Technology Room door and stepped into the hall.

Cassidy was moving through the precinct outside of the IT room when she was stopped by Nina’s call. She turned back toward the precinct’s technical analyst and watched as she raced toward her with a sheet of paper in her hand.

“Hi, what’s up?” Cassidy asked as Nina stopped in front of her and extended the paper.

“Last Tuesday I did some test calls in the Newtown area that you were interested in,” Nina began excitedly.

Cassidy took the sheet of paper and began examining it as Nina continued. Printed on the paper was a map of a half mile square area in Brooklyn.

“And I’m ninety-five-percent sure that I know which building those calls you were asking about came from.”

“You do?” Cassidy questioned back as she continued to examine the paper.

“Yeah,” Nina returned with a wide smile and pointing at the paper.

“Is this an apartment building?” Cassidy asked as she continued to study the paper.

“No, it’s a warehouse,” Nina answered.

Cassidy continued to study the map and pondered aloud: “A warehouse?”

“That’s it. I’m sure of it,” Nina insisted with a nod. “You see; I did some test calls all around this area. And I noted the towers that were handling the calls and the differing signal strengths from each location. By comparing the signal strengths recorded by the towers for each location I was able to shrink the area where the calls originated. This is the place. I’m sure of it. I would have brought you this sooner, but I had to wait for the phone companies to pull...”

“Damn!” Cassidy broke in with frustration.

Nina was startled a little by her sudden burst of aggravation. She stopped in mid-sentence to give Cassidy a surprised look. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Sorry, I’m just upset about this whole situation,” Cassidy explained.

Nina had expected her report to be welcomed information. The fact that it was not made her wonder if she had done something wrong.

“What situation? I thought this was what you wanted.”

“It is,” Cassidy assured her. “I’m just pissed off about having my hands tied.”

Nina had no idea why Cassidy was angry. Her mind was always focused on providing the answers to questions that the detectives put to her. How that information was used was often of no interest to her.

“So, this doesn’t help you?” Nina questioned.

“Yes, yes it does,” Cassidy spouted apologetically. “I’m going to look into it. It’s just these prepaid phones. I’m certain that the answers I’m looking for are hiding behind them and the Lieutenant is preventing me from getting around them.”

“Well prepaid phones are anonymous,” Nina explained. “You can’t get around that. The carriers don’t even know who owns them.”

“I don’t think I need them to know,” Cassidy mused out loud.

“Why is that?” Nina asked.

“I think the people using them may be buying them in bunches—three, four, five at a time. Which would make sense because they only use them for a short time, a month at the most, and then they discard them. And if that is true, then the last phone that my suspect uses has a good chance of being the last phone in the lot to be activated.”

Nina’s face lit up with understanding.

“So, all you need to find that phone are the serial numbers from that lot. If you had those, it would be a simple process of elimination.”

“I wouldn’t even have to wait for the last phone to activate. I could just filter out the phones already discarded and then search for any cellphone in the lot that only make calls to burner phones.”

“So, the person you’re looking for is almost certain to have the last two or three cellphones from the lot to go active,” Nina added with sudden awareness.

“Precisely,” Cassidy agreed.

Nina took a moment to assess the plan. She concluded that it was doable.

“So why aren’t you doing it?”

“I’m on desk duty for one,” Cassidy explained, tossing her hands. “I’m not supposed to be working cases. A second reason is the subpoena I would need to match the electronic serial numbers with mobile identification numbers. The Lieutenant would never sign off on that. In his mind, this case is closed.”

“So, you’re working a case that you’re not supposed to be working,” Nina pondered out with confusion and surprise.

“Yeah,” Cassidy admitted in a word.

Nina gave Cassidy a sly look with a barely contained a grin.

“Well, I might be able to get those numbers for you.”

“What?” Cassidy quickly returned.

“Yeah, there might be a way,” Nina returned with a contemplative look and a nod of her head. “But I don’t think you’ll be able to use the information as evidence in a trial.”

“Wait, wait,” Cassidy jumped in with a shocked expression. “You’re saying that you can get the information without a subpoena?”

“Maybe, yeah,” Nina confirmed with a nod and a shrug.

“Wait,” Cassidy challenged with disbelief. “I’ve dealt with phone companies before, and they don’t give up anything without a subpoena, and the majority of the time they devote weeks to fighting those.”

“Well, that was your problem,” Nina returned with a smile and a pleased-with-herself expression. “When you come at the phone companies with subpoenas, that brings the lawyers into the room.”

Cassidy was taken aback by Nina’s confidence. Nina continued to explain.

“This isn’t top secret information. They’re not hiding it in a vault. That’s just quality control records. If you go into the head office with a subpoena, they’re going to think trial, publicity and damage to the brand. Now, if you go in through a side door and convince the right person that there won’t be any of that, then they just might be willing to let you take a peek at what’s lying around on their desk.”

“And you know someone like that?” Cassidy questioned with hope and surprise.

“Hey, this is my bailiwick,” Nina professed with a wide smile. “Just give me a few days to look into it and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Nina, you’re a treasure,” Cassidy proclaimed with excitement.

“Thank me later,” Nina quickly pushed back. “This isn’t written in stone.”

“I have faith in you,” Cassidy insisted with a grin on her face.

Cassidy was overwhelmed with excitement. She turned away and hurried back to her desk eager to investigate the warehouse where the Newtown calls originated. But the possibility that she might learn the new number that one or more of her suspects were now using was the icing on the cake. She hoped that information would unveil the secrets the prepaid phones were concealing. Her need to know and understand what had happened overruled all other concerns and considerations. The names that she got from David Burrell the night before became a secondary issue. They were just more people she had to investigate. She believed the warehouse had the potential to give her some answers to the mystery she was immersed in.

It was half past eight in the morning when Nina told Cassidy about the warehouse. She had the bulk of a full day of work ahead of her and the morning seemed to drag on. She did find information on the building’s owner: Andrew Lantz, white male, 63 years of age with no criminal record and good credit. But that said nothing about what was happening in the warehouse, and the workload piling up on her desk prevented her from learning anymore. She was frustrated with her efforts to work an investigation as a side project. She had nothing pleasant to say to anyone and often said nothing when spoken to in passing. That was doubly true when someone brought her more work. It was a quarter to twelve when she broke her silence.

“Cassidy,” Nina called out as she approached her desk. “We’re going to Griff’s for lunch. You coming?”

Cassidy looked up with a start and saw Nina, Officers Kate Hecht and Eileen Nugent. It was not the offer that surprised her. It was the time. She had been working too diligently to keep up with the time. Her mind was occupied with clearing the work from her desk as quickly as possible.

Cassidy had lunched with this group of women many times in the past, but she had not done so this week. Over the past four days, she considered her time too valuable to waste by going out for lunch. But that did not stop them from asking every time they went out.

“I can’t,” Cassidy professed apologetically.

“You say that every time. You’re working too hard and you’re letting them take advantage of you.”

“Nina is right,” Kate supported. “If you don’t set limits, they’re just going to keep pushing more work on you.”

Cassidy could think of no immediate response but began shaking her head in anticipation of declining the invitation.

“Come on, relax a little,” Eileen quickly said, cutting Cassidy off. “It’ll all be here when you get back. I promise.”

Cassidy could think of no good reason to say no. She would not be able to do any work on her side project until later that afternoon and could think of nothing more she could do in the precinct to unveil the mystery of Andrew Lantz. Her reluctance to accept was due to the fact that she wanted to use her lunch to go see the warehouse. But the act of leaving the precinct after declining such an invitation was a maneuver she had not considered. She was just about to reverse her position and accept the invite when a person she did not expect to see walked into the squad room.

“Uh, I’m sorry,” Cassidy stuttered. “But I have a lunch date.”

Cassidy logged off her computer and gathered her trench overcoat as she spoke, glancing intermittently at the person that had just entered the squad room. Nina, Kate and Eileen followed her glances to the stranger coming toward them. Collectively they assessed him as a medium height and exceedingly good-looking man with neatly coifed hair. He was smartly dressed in a charcoal gray suit and matching vest, a gray patterned tie and a shockingly white shirt. A folded white handkerchief peaked out from the suit breast pocket, and a visitor’s identification card was attached to his lapel. Cassidy hurried to intercept him before he could reach her desk.

“Hello,” David Burrell greeted as Cassidy hooked her arm around his and turned him back toward the entrance.

“Come on,” Cassidy encouraged as she led him back the way he came.

“Okay, well you have a nice time,” Kate called out to Cassidy with a wide smile.

Nina, Kate and Eileen watched them exit the squad room with approving stares.

Cassidy steered David out of the squad room and down the hall in a rush. David put up no resistance and was more than a little surprised by her eagerness to leave.

“What are you doing here?” Cassidy asked with a frown.

Cassidy continued to steer David toward the employees parking lot entrance.

“I’m here to invite you out to lunch,” David responded with a smile.

“You didn’t say anything about us going out to lunch today,” Cassidy whispered as she walked.

“If I had, you would have said no,” David returned with a pretense of a scowl.

“So, you just decided to come to my job and drag me out of the precinct,” Cassidy questioned.

“I gambled that you would be more inclined to say yes if I was already here,” David explained. “And it would appear that I’m right.”

Cassidy was slightly displeased with David’s attempt to manipulate her, but she was not prepared to dispute the matter. She gave his answer a look of irritation out the corners of her eyes and then led him out the door to the parking lot.

“My car is in the front,” David said as he continued to follow her lead.

“We’re taking my car,” Cassidy returned as she strode with resolve.

“Yes Ma’am,” David acquiesced as he tagged along.

Cassidy drove out of the 122nd precinct parking lot in haste and with David in the front passenger seat. She knew that travel time to and from the Brooklyn warehouse would give her little time to look it over, but that did not deter her from her plan. She was determined to get a look inside that building before the weekend started. They were five minutes into the journey when curiosity got the better of David.

“Where are we going?”

Cassidy kept her focus on the road, and the rapid pace of her driving, while she answered his question without a second thought.

“There’s a warehouse in Brooklyn that I need to check out.”

“Is the food good?” David queried back with a bit of wit.

“I need to take a look at it,” Cassidy explained without regard for his remark.

“Why?” David asked, faintly curious.

“You don’t need to know that,” Cassidy replied dismissively.

David accepted the answer without dispute. He road silently alongside Cassidy up until the moment she parked the car, twelve minutes later.

“Is that it?” David asked, pointing to a brownstone building further up the street.

Cassidy ignored his question. Instead she responded to his preparation to leave the car.

“You’re not coming,” Cassidy instructed as she pulled the key from the ignition.

“This is not what I was expecting when I said lunch date,” David commented as Cassidy opened her door.

Cassidy ignored David’s remark. Her mind was fixed on the warehouse, for the most part. 

“I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

The warehouse was a two-story high building that looked as though it had been out of use for some time. There was no movement outside of the building, and the loading bay door was closed. Cassidy examined the outside of the building as she moved toward the personnel entrance. When she arrived at the door, she promptly tried it and found it locked. She shifted her focus to the small square window in the door, attempting to peer into the interior. The limited illumination inside made that difficult. There were no lights on inside, but she could make out windows along the side of the building that created small bright spots and long black shadows. She began to rap loudly on the door while continuing her search. She shortly concluded that she was wasting time and effort.

Cassidy was reluctant to give up. She backed away from the building and looked for another way in. She walked around to the rear of the warehouse not knowing what she would find there or what she was looking for. She was growing short on patience. She suspected the warehouse would be even less accessible over the weekend, and she wanted to learn something about the contents of the building if not the people who were regularly inside it.

A raggedy chain-link fence did nothing to obstruct Cassidy’s plan to circumnavigate the building. It took her little more than a minute to pass through a tear in the fence and move around to the rear of the building. She saw nothing back there to suggest that anyone was in the structure. There were no cars or trucks parked in the spaces lined out for them. After a brief scan of area, she turned her attention to the closed personnel door at the back of the building. She walked up to it expecting it to be locked. She grasped the knob, gave it a twist, and pushed. To her surprise, the door swung open.

The interior of the warehouse was pitch black. Cassidy pulled a small flashlight from the pocket of her suitcoat, turned it on and stepped across the threshold. She moved carefully through the building with the beam of her flashlight illuminating the floor in front of her. She looked for signs of anyone inside. After several moments of complete silence, she elected to stop and call out.

“Is anyone here?”

The silence that followed was further support that no one was inside the warehouse. The dark interior was interrupted in places by diffused light coming in from small windows high on the wall to Cassidy’s left. In most places, the light was blocked from streaming directly onto the floor by crates and boxes stacked on metal racks about 15-feet high. Much of the floor was bathed in black shadows created by the racks and containers. The main room of the warehouse was more than 20-feet high. A second level walkway with a railing protruded out from the right wall and extended all the way down its length. Cassidy saw two large windows and four doors on the second level. She found staircases at both ends of the walkway. Cassidy slowly moved to the right, along the back wall, until she found the center aisle. She turned into it and began to walk toward the front of the warehouse.

Occasionally, Cassidy used her flashlight to examine the crates and boxes shelved at the end of a side aisle. She saw nothing suspicious about them. Halfway up the center aisle, she found the bottom of the staircase that ran parallel to the front wall of the warehouse and up to the second-floor. Cassidy continued to move in that direction at a slow pace. She directed the beam from her flashlight from side-to-side across the floor. She saw nothing interesting enough to hold her attention for more than a few seconds.

After a slow walk, Cassidy reached the front of the warehouse floor. Along the way, she saw boxes and crates that were marked as machinery parts, raw materials and retail merchandise. When she reached the end of the center aisle, she turned her attention to the stairs that led to the second level and began the climb.

At the top of the stairs, Cassidy came out onto the walkway that ran the length of the wall on the second level. The outside light coming through windows on the opposite wall did a better job of illuminating the upper level. Cassidy began to move down the walkway with her flashlight still lighting her path. At the first window, she found closed blinds and moved on to the door next to it. She tried the doorknob and found it unlocked. She opened it and stepped through, illuminating the room with her flashlight. It was a small indistinctive office with an old metal desk, metal file cabinets, and metal and vinyl chairs. The floor was linoleum and looked to be in need of cleaning. The room was utilitarian and not setup for comfort. Cassidy took one quick look around from just inside the doorway then stepped back out and moved down past the next window to the door beside it. That door was unlocked as well. Inside, she found a similar setup as the first. After another quick examination, Cassidy backed out onto the walkway and moved down to the third door. There was no window next to that door, but it too was unlocked. Inside Cassidy found a large storage closet filled with office and janitorial supplies. She took a few seconds to scan the room then backed out onto the walkway.

As Cassidy moved down to the fourth door, she wondered what she might find inside. Because it was the last room, she judged by the remaining length left on that level that the space behind the door had to be quite large. Cassidy approached the door and grasped the knob expecting it would open with the same ease as the first three. She was mildly surprised to find it locked.

The fact that it was the only locked door that Cassidy found inside the warehouse was all the incentive she needed to be curious about the interior. Her curiosity moved her to examine the lock.

Cassidy did not have a honed skill for picking locks, which was far truer when it came to locks that were seriously meant to keep people out. But her time as a uniformed patrol officer did afford her an opportunity to coax open a bathroom door in a 40-year old, two-bedroom house. After examining the lock, she concluded that the similarities between the two were greater than their differences, and with that thought in mind, she applied herself to the task of opening the door. With the use of a department store credit card, it took her a little more than a minute to jimmy the latch out of the framework. She then gave a push and the door swung open.

When Cassidy first peered into the fourth room, she could see nothing. The room was long and dark. There were no windows to allow the diffuse light in from the warehouse windows. She panned across the interior with her flashlight. The length of the room was the first thing that Cassidy took interest in. It was as large as the other three rooms combined. The décor was the next thing to take her by surprise. Her small flashlight did a poor job of illuminating the color and quality of the furnishings within the room, but the large canopy bed at the far end from the door was unmistakable.

Cassidy stepped across the threshold as soon as she saw the bed. A new sensation caught her attention the instant her foot settled onto the floor. The room was thickly carpeted. She paused momentarily on the carpeting, then she walked two steps into the room. From her position, she could see it was not an office. There was a sitting area with a four-person sofa, a coffee table and two sofa chairs stationed at the end of the room opposite the bed. Every new discovery raised Cassidy’s interest in the room. Her pocket flashlight’s limited ability suddenly became unacceptable. She turned about and searched for a light switch, finding it next to the door. When she flipped the switch, a soft yellow light filled the room. Cassidy immediately looked up at a series of decorative lamps attached at intervals along a rod that spanned much of the length of the room. Each lamp directed its light to a different area of the room. Next, Cassidy turned her attention to the decor.

The furnishings were sparse but attractive and looked expensive. The heavily ornate, intricately carved wood framed canopy bed dominated the room. Cassidy gravitated toward it with a growing look of curiosity. At first, her interest was limited to the fact that the room seemed out of place. Slowly her interest turned to the furnishings atop the bed. The abundance of decorative pillows suggested to her that the bed might not be there for sleeping. When she came to within a foot of the bed, her eyes locked in on the brown fur throw blanket that covered it. She reached down and pulled out a few strands to examine.

“Oh, my god,” Cassidy whispered to herself.

Cassidy stood there for several seconds looking at the bed in stunned silence. A new thought took hold of her. She quickly returned her flashlight to her outer suitcoat pocket and then retrieved her personal ultraviolet flashlight from her upper left inside pocket. With her new tool in hand, Cassidy hurried over to the light switch and flipped it off before turning on the ultraviolet flashlight. When she turned it toward the bed, Cassidy was surprised by what she saw from fifteen feet away. The black light illuminated a vast area of glowing speckles and splatters on and about the bed. The densest area was at the head of the bed. Cassidy moved several steps closer as she continued to examine the stains. Soon she found full and partial handprints mixed in with the stains. She gasped in realization of what she had just found.

“This is it!” She softly exclaimed.

At that moment, there was no doubt in Cassidy’s mind that she had found the sight where her nine Greenbelt victims had died. She realized that the stains she was looking at had to be the residue of their blood. She asked herself: What was happening here? With that in mind, she went back to the light switch, turned on the overhead lamps and began a more thorough examination of the room. She was looking for anything that would explain, or be a clue to, what had happened in that room. But there was nothing there besides the bed, seating and the coffee table.

It did not take Cassidy long to accept the fact that she would find nothing more in the room to advance her investigation. Now her mind was free to entertain a new question: What should she do next? She knew that the absence of a search warrant would make the discovery of the room inadmissible as evidence. She concluded that she had to get back to Lt. Graham and convince him to apply for a search warrant on the weight of the evidence that brought her there.

Cassidy quickly turned off the light and closed the door behind her as she hurried back out onto the walkway outside the room. She retrieved her flashlight as she moved and began using it to light her way back the way she came. Her movements were quicker this time; she was in a hurry. Besides wanting to get back to the precinct as soon as possible, she wanted to get out of the warehouse before anyone connected to it could arrive to find her there. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she hurried back over to the center aisle, and proceeded down it.

Cassidy had walked a quarter of the length of the center aisle when she heard the first sound that was out of place. It was a noise that sounded like something small and metallic had fallen to the floor. The sound came from behind her, off her left. She spun around and pointed her light in the direction of the sound.

“Is someone there?” Cassidy called out.

After several seconds of silence, Cassidy moved on. She dismissed the sound to a rodent or a breeze through a crack in the building. She had just turned about and taken a step when a rustle of noise ahead of her on her left, coupled with a quick shadowy movement high atop the racks, startled her into drawing her weapon. With her gun gripped in her right hand and her flashlight gripped in her left, Cassidy positioned her right gun-hand atop her left and began to examine the dark spaces on both sides above the aisles.

Cassidy was not expecting to see anything atop the 15-feet high warehouse racks. A person moving about on top of the racks was the furthest thought from her mind, plus the figure she saw moved nothing like a person. But that logic only enhanced her feeling of dread. If the shadow was not a human, then she concluded it had to be an animal of some sort. And based upon the size of the shadow, and the range and quickness of its movement, she concluded that it had to be much larger than a rodent.

Without speaking a word, Cassidy examined the area above her, to her left. It was clear to her that she was being stalked. With her gun ready, and staying vigilant and stationary, she hoped to get a good bead on it before it could make contact with her. Seconds later, the sound of movement to the rear and left of her shocked her into spinning around. Panic framed her expression. With her gun and flashlight extended out at arm’s length and a wide-eyed gaze, she saw nothing in motion. Then a loud sound to her left shocked her into spinning back around.

The crash of something heavy falling to the floor caused Cassidy to step back reflexively. In that instant, she looked and aimed her flashlight and gun down toward the floor where the noise came from. In that same moment, a figure leaped across the center aisle and landed atop a rack on the opposite side. Cassidy’s sudden fixation on the noise and floor of the aisle in front of her caused her to completely miss the leap above her. After panning her flashlight across the aisles, a new sound drew her attention behind her. She spun about and gave the location a momentary scan before moving back toward an aisle on her right. She reached the intersection of the next aisle in five steps where she paused to give the center aisle one last look, then she turned and continued her escape down the new side aisle. 

The side aisles were the darkest areas of the warehouse. The boxes and crates shelved on the racks did an effective job of blocking out what little light there was. Cassidy used her flashlight to light her way. The pace of her movement was a rushed walk. Her gun remained ready atop her left flashlight hand. Fear was now a fixture on her face. After moving down the length of the aisle, a sound from behind shocked her and caused her to spin around to look back the way she came. She was a step away from the aisle’s opening. She panned her flashlight back and forth across the aisle and then up and down. She saw nothing and decided to move on. During the first backstep into her retreat, she became aware of a presence immediately behind her. Shock sent her spinning around at the best speed her reflexes could produce, but she was stopped in mid turn. A pair of hands grabbed her right arm and the collar of her jacket and wrenched her into the air. The warehouse seemed to tumble around her. Cassidy could feel herself tumbling through the air. The duration of her fall seemed longer than it should have been up until the moment her mind stopped processing time.

As Cassidy stirred to consciousness, her first thoughts were nonsensical ramblings. Her eyes opened and a vague imagery of darkness and bright lights began to fill her vision. She became aware of smoke. Her lungs were experiencing a burning irritation. Smoke was stinging her eyes and she had a severe headache. She began to cough and move as awareness slowly returned to her. She could see the glow of a large fire on the far side of the warehouse, and she realized that she was lying on the floor. Shortly, she recalled that she had been attacked. She remembered being thrown through the air and colliding hard with something that did not give. She searched behind her and saw that she was lying next to the warehouse side wall. She looked back the other way and saw her flashlight was still on and lying on the floor in the distance. She did not see her gun; it was no longer in her hand. She began to feel for it in the darkness as she started pushing herself up from the floor; and then she saw him. It was the figure of a man. He was about ten yards away. Her dazed state, the darkness and the smoke combined to make him barely visible. She could see that his back was turned to her. She began to search harder for her weapon. She froze when the figure turned in response to her movements. His eyes were luminescent like the eyes of a cat. He held his stare on her and she on him. Their exchange lasted a couple of seconds, and then a distant shout from a female voice broke the connection.

“Cristiãn!” (kris-shē-ôn)

The figure looked back toward the caller for a moment and then turned his attention back to her. Cassidy could see nothing of his face due to the smoke in her eyes and the shadows that engulfed him. She saw one side of his figure dimly outline intermittently by the growing glow of the fire in the distance. The rest of him blended into the darkness of the aisle he was standing in. The only part of him that stood out clearly was the gleam of light coming off his eyes, and Cassidy was fixated on them. He returned her gaze for a moment more before backing away into the aisle and out of her sight.

Cassidy had no time to wonder where he went. Within a few seconds of his disappearance, the smoke and fumes of the fire began to overwhelm her. With the increased strain to breathe, she began a frantic search for her gun. Cassidy crawled about in the dark feeling for her weapon. Her coughing became more frequent and pronounced with each passing second. Shortly into her efforts to breathe and find her weapon, she heard a familiar voice calling her name. The calls were repeated, and the caller was David.

“I’m over here,” Cassidy choked out at a level far below a shout.

Cassidy repeated her response several times with declining success. Despite her failing responses, David followed her calls.

“I have to find my weapon,” Cassidy protested when David took her by the arm.

David ignored her objection and tried to pull her up from the floor. Cassidy pulled free of his grasp and continued to feel about the floor.

“Do you see my gun?” Cassidy asked between coughs.

David saw her determination to find it and gave the area a quick scan but did not see it. He quickly abandoned the search and reached down for Cassidy.

“We’ve got to go,” David yelled as he grabbed Cassidy by the arm.

David pulled Cassidy up and then began to steer her toward the rear exit of the warehouse. It took them less than a minute to get out of the building. He guided Cassidy around to the front of the building and across the street. By that time, the flames had extended out the windows and up through the roof. Smoke was billowing out through every opening in the building. Cassidy and David stood watch from the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street. The sound of sirens in the distance could be heard closing in on their location. After a moment of gawking, David turned a questioning look to Cassidy.

“What happened in there?”

Cassidy continued to stare at the burning warehouse and pondered his question with a look of disbelief. After contemplating an answer for several seconds, she responded with the only answer her mind could produce at that moment.

“I don’t know.”


	13. Food for Thought

“What the hell did you think you were doing?”

Lt. Graham’s boisterous query went unheard by Cassidy. Her mind was too busy formulating the words for what she wanted to say to hear what was being said to her.

“I found it,” Cassidy stressed with a point toward the world beyond the two of them. “The Greenbelt Nine were killed in that warehouse.”

“You mean the warehouse you burned down?” Lt. Graham challenged with a scowl.

“I was attacked,” Cassidy returned defensively. “The fire was set to destroy the evidence.”

"That argument doesn't help you. If there was evidence in there, it's gone now, and all I have is your word that it ever existed."

“So, my report isn’t enough anymore,” Cassidy argued back in disbelief. “I’m telling you there was a man and a woman inside that warehouse. I didn’t see the woman, but the man had to be six feet tall and strong. He threw me up against the wall like I weighed next to nothing. When I woke up the warehouse was on fire.”

“I can’t prove any of that, Cassidy,” Lt. Graham responded with incredulity. “You know that.”

Cassidy tried to interject a response but was cut off by Lt. Graham's continuing rebuke.

"You broke into a warehouse without a warrant. You brought a civilian with you. The building catches fire—started by someone else—you say, and because you don’t have evidence of a crime or probable cause, the owner of the building will undoubtedly sue the city. How am I supposed to see anything good in that?"

"That back door was open," Cassidy insisted with ferocity.

Lt. Graham ignored her statement and continued with his thought.

"The Captain of the 90th wants to arrest you. Captain Skiles is calling me for answers that he can give to the Commissioner. And I hear the Commissioner is on the phone with the Mayor. Damn it, Tremaine, do you have any idea how much of a mess you’ve made?"

Cassidy had no response to his question. She knew that Lt. Graham was not expecting one, and she was not interested in providing one. The complications and legalities associated with the fire were not the most important thoughts on her mind. The fact that she had found the site where the Greenbelt Nine had died, the glowing eyes of the man who attacked her and the discovery that her attacker’s name was Christian were the things that she wanted to talk about.

Cassidy was seated on an examination table in a hospital emergency room during her berating from Lt. Graham. She suffered a small bump to her head, but the skin did not break. The rest of her person was bruised but unbroken. The doctor wanted to keep her at the hospital for temporary observation as a precaution. She was nearly an hour into her stay when Lt. Graham arrived to voice his dissatisfaction with her.

“So, am I under arrest?” Cassidy asked after a moment of silence.

“No,” Lt. Graham answered sternly. “But you are suspended. I need your badge and your ID Card.”

Lt. Graham extended his hand, palm up, and waited for Cassidy to surrender the items.

“What?” Cassidy returned in shock.

“Suspended,” Lt. Graham repeated with finality. “There will be an investigation. And when we find out what we’re dealing with, we’ll let you know when you can come back in…or if.”

Cassidy was stunned by his report. She felt she had just given the department a big clue regarding the deaths of the Greenbelt Nine. Her priority at that moment was to find the owner of the building, and anyone else connected with it, and then interrogate them for answers. She was motivated to speak her mind.

“What about the Greenbelt Nine?” Cassidy questioned her lieutenant with an astonished look. “We now know where they died. We should be investigating the people connected with that building.”

“How do you know they were in there?” Lt. Graham asked with bewilderment.

“I saw blood stains,” Cassidy replied without hesitation.

Lt. Graham looked at Cassidy with astonishment.

“How do you know it was the victim’s blood? How do you know it was blood at all?”

“The forensic report said that the victims had strands of mohair on them,” Cassidy began to explain. “The bed I saw in that warehouse had a mohair throw blanket on top of it.”

“How do you know it was mohair?” Lt. Graham challenged with a so what expression. “Did you test it?”

“I didn’t have to,” Cassidy returned with an annoyed look. “They killed them in that warehouse. Albert Haynes didn’t act alone,” she finished emphatically.

Lt. Graham studied Cassidy a moment, then proceeded with a more conciliatory approach.

“We’ll look into it. But you, Detective Tremaine, you need to go home.”

“But this is my case,” Cassidy complained. “I know it; I understand it better than anyone. You need me to put the pieces together.”

“I need you to stay away,” Lt. Graham softly insisted.

Cassidy was just about to repeat her objection when Lt. Graham cut her off.

“Go home. We’ll figure it out. Go home.”

Cassidy took in a deep breath and exhaled it with a look of resignation. She then nodded her intention to comply with the Lieutenant’s instruction, pulled her badge and ID card out of her blazer’s inner pocket and put it in Lt. Graham’s hand. He accepted them both with a nod of his head and a look of regret.

“Your lunch date is waiting to drive you home.”

After giving this notice, Lt. Graham turned to walk away. At that moment, a thought came to Cassidy, and she quickly commenced to communicate it.

“Christian. Look for someone named Christian. I think he may be one of the suspects I listed in the case file. If he is then Christian may be a nickname or an alias.”

Lt. Graham had taken two steps when he stopped and turned around to hear this. When Cassidy finished speaking, he asked a parting a question.

“Anything else?”

Cassidy gave the question a momentary thought. She was tempted to tell him about the eyes of the man that attacked her. She paused to consider how that answer would be received. She weighed the possibility that the bump to the head affected her eyesight. Shortly she concluded that the answer was best left unsaid.

“No, nothing else.”

Lt. Graham accepted this answer and walked away. Another ten minutes passed, and the doctor came in and gave Cassidy’s eyes a quick exam and asked a few questions. He quickly became satisfied with what he saw and heard and dismissed her to go home. In turn, Cassidy took no delay in making her exit. She went out into the emergency room reception area and did a brief look around for David. Seconds later she saw him coming towards her.

“How are you feeling?” David questioned as he moved to within five feet of her and stopped.

“I’m okay,” Cassidy returned behind a kind demeanor. “The doctor said I suffered a mild brain trauma. I think that’s code for I bumped my head.”

“So, no dizziness, no headaches?”

“I have a slight tender spot,” Cassidy reported with a smile and while touching the back of her head. “But other than that, I’m fine. What are you doing here?”

“I’m waiting for you,” David answered with a carefree inflection.

It was David who drove Cassidy’s car to the hospital that she was conveyed to by ambulance. When he arrived, David took a seat in the reception area to wait for Cassidy’s release. Lt. Graham arrived at the hospital almost half an hour after David and immediately sought him out. He was interested in knowing David’s intentions with regards to the mishap at the warehouse. After a brief conversation, Lt. Graham was convinced that the civilian was not likely to cause the department any legal hassles. He then asked if he would be driving Cassidy home, and David promptly promised that he would. ~~~~

“You could have given the keys to Lt. Graham and went home,” Cassidy returned in response to David’s declaration that he was waiting for her. “There was no reason for you stay,” she insisted.

“I wanted to be sure that you were okay,” David returned with a look of concern. “And I also promised a Lt. Graham that I would drive you home.”

Cassidy’s good humor fell away behind the last part of this report. She could see David’s concern for her in his expression, but this plan for him to drive her home was the last thing she wanted to hear.

“I’m fine,” Cassidy countered with a mild look of annoyance. “I can drive myself.”

Cassidy extended her hand out in a gesture that said she wanted something from him.

“Keys.”

“You were unconscious,” David disputed while ignoring her extended hand. “Are you sure you should be driving?”

“I’m fine,” Cassidy insisted as she beckoned for the keys with her hand.

After a hesitation, David handed over the keys with an expression of reluctance. Cassidy ignored the look and walked around him before stopping and turning with a question.

“Do you need a lift back to your car?”

Cassidy recalled that he left his car at the precinct.

“It’s already been taken care of,” David answered nonchalantly. “My assistant manager at the club is collecting it as we speak.”

“Is he bringing it here?” Cassidy questioned with a look of concern.

“No, he’s taking it to the club,” David answered with a smirk. “Are you going my way?”

Cassidy did not have to think about this request. In her mind, David was her responsibility. Driving him to his club felt like the very least that she could do for him. 

“Come on.” 

They were for several minutes into their drive to The Cavern when David broached a question.

“You want to talk about it?”

Cassidy first acknowledged his question with slight glance to her right.

“About what?”

“It looked like something inside that warehouse shook you up rather badly,” David surmised with concern.

“I’m over it,” Cassidy replied with a distant look.

There was another brief silence between them. David waited on Cassidy’s far off look to produce an addendum to her response. Cassidy shook herself from her brief revelry and took a deep breath.

“I was suspended,” She reported.

“How can they do that?” David asked with surprise. “You were attacked.”

Cassidy smiled at his reply.

“Well, it doesn’t look good when you’re caught in the field working a case while you’re on desk duty. And to make matters worse, you enter a building illegally, it catches fire and you have nothing to show for it.”

“So, the bump on your head doesn’t count for anything?” David asked, mildly astonished.

“I’m afraid not,” Cassidy answered with a little chuckle.

David gave her answer a moment of thought.

“So, what are you going to do?”

“There’s nothing I can do,” Cassidy replied. “Two other detectives will look into the owner of the warehouse, and hopefully they’ll find answers.”

“Well, that sucks,” David responded with a smile. 

“Yeah,” Cassidy agreed and returned the smile. “It sucks a lot.”

Their mutual smiles suddenly turned into laughter. Soon the laughter relaxed into wide smiles and then a prolonged silence. It was the most comfortable that Cassidy had ever felt in David’s company. She felt like she had a partner again. The fact that he was a civilian was the only thing preventing her from telling him about what she saw in the warehouse.

The possible connection between the name she heard in the warehouse, the writing in the Romanian cave and the glowing eyes was not a theory that Cassidy was inclined to give credence. She continued to have trouble seriously considering the idea that vampires existed. Her thoughts on the subject came back to the same conclusion: it was ridiculous. She pondered the notion again when their levity had passed—though, not seriously.

“Can we have our lunch now, Detective Tremaine?” David asked placidly.

Cassidy was caught off guard by the question. She had not expected to see or hear anything more from him for several days, at the earliest. The idea that he wanted to complete their lunch date was the last thing on her mind. But the fact that he was asking her after all that had just happened amused her enough to generate a smile.

“I think it’s a little late for lunch,” Cassidy deflected with a smile.

“Not if you haven’t eaten one,” David returned without hesitation.

Cassidy had hoped that her comment on the time would put him off the idea. His persistence frightened her a little.

“I don’t have time,” Cassidy said with a smile.

“It sounds to me like you have plenty of time,” David calmly disputed.

Cassidy chuckled briefly. She knew that David was pointing out her suspension which essentially cleared her calendar. But that did not stop her from trying to evade his invitation. Fear began to well up in her. The idea of being alone with David, without police business between them, made her feel uneasy. And she knew that feeling originated from her strong attraction to him.

“I need to get home,” Cassidy returned while looking away. “I have the children and…”

“No, you don’t,” David interjected casually.

“Excuse me?” Cassidy retorted while giving David a sharp look. 

“Today is the start of the first full weekend of the month,” David explained. “If I remember correctly, their father has custody starting this evening.”

Cassidy was well aware of her children’s weekend arrangements with their father, but she was more than a little surprised that David was aware of them. It took her a moment to remember that she mentioned it to him. For a moment, she wanted to be angry by his temerity to challenge her, but she quickly resigned herself to acceptance.

“I have housework I can be doing,” Cassidy proffered as an alternative to caring for her kids.

David smiled at her obvious dodge.

“So, your plan is to go home to an empty house?”

“My plans are my own, Mr. Burrell,” Cassidy countered with a flash of temper.

David paused and maintained his calm, then he changed tactics.

“Are you afraid of me, Detective Tremaine?”

Cassidy was immediately offended by the idea that she was afraid of him. She found the question even more demeaning because of the way he asked it. Despite her feelings, she was determined not to let her composure slip again.

“Why would I be afraid of you?” Cassidy smugly asked.

“Because you’re attracted to me and…”

Cassidy quickly cut in before David could finish his thought.

“I have found men attractive before, Mr. Burrell,” Cassidy countered with defiance. “They didn’t frighten me and neither do you.”

David paused to give Cassidy a thoughtful study and then tried again with more warmth. 

“Have lunch with me, Detective.”

With some loss of resolve, Cassidy thoughtfully considered his request. David took advantage of the moment to clarify his intention.

“It’s just lunch.”

At that moment, Cassidy could not bring herself to say no. The thought of doing so just to avoid being alone with him seemed to gall her somehow.

“Okay,” Cassidy conceded.

Her acceptance was the result of feeling rushed to say something and a desire not to look like a frightened little girl. She regretted it as soon as she said it. Becoming a victim to David’s charm was the one thing she did not want to happen. She could not help feeling that it was beneath the dignity of her position as an NYPD Detective to swoon from the attention of a good looking and prosperous man. Her resistance to losing her sense of detachment for want of a man’s affection was operating at full blast when it came to David, and she knew why. It was because of a feeling that was screaming at her to say yes to whatever he asked. 

“Good,” David responded with a pleasant smile.

Cassidy pushed away her confusion with a deep breath, accepted that the inevitable lunch date was happening and turned her attention to the here and now.

“So, where are we going?”

“Well,” David began with a ponderous expression. “My reservation with Nobu has probably expired. So…”

He paused so that he could give her question a little more thought.

“You like fish?”

“Yeah, why?” Cassidy asked.

David dismissed her question in favor of a quick course change instruction.

“Take a left up here.”

“Where are we going?” Cassidy asked as she navigated the turn.

“We need to make a stop,” David explained while looking pleased with himself.

Cassidy did not care for the course she was heading down with this man. But that was the feeling she had from the moment she met him, so their journey now was no great addition. She quietly followed his instructions for another five minutes. They ended up at Union Square and David told her to park. Cassidy saw the Whole Foods Market sign before they entered the parking lot. Her first comment came when they stepped onto the sidewalk.

“Are we eating here?”

“No,” David returned with a smile. “We’re going shopping.”

“Shopping?” Cassidy challenged with surprise. 

“I recall your lack of faith in my cooking,” David hinted and smiled.

“I never said that.” Cassidy remarked after a moment of thought.

“I want to impress you, Detective Tremaine,” David explained with a smile. “Please let me.”

“Mr. Burrell, I don’t…” Cassidy began hesitantly.

“David.” He interrupted her. “You promised to call me by my first name on our lunch date.”

Cassidy paused then smiled at his correction.

“How long is this going take, David?” Cassidy continued along a different tack.

“Trust me, it will be worth the wait,” David assured her.

Cassidy had thought to resist David’s plan so that she could get home in time to hand her children off to their father. She quickly rationalized that it was easier to just go along with his plan since, in truth, time was not a problem, and she had a growing reluctance to say no to him.

Anticipating that her time with David would last well past 4 o’clock, Cassidy stopped outside the store and made two calls, one to James and the other to her neighbor, Sarah. Within a few minutes, she had arranged for James to pick up John and Cynthia at her neighbor’s home. David waited for her to finish her calls before starting his tour through the store. The number of people inside the store was fewer than half found on weekend, but it was still crowded enough to make the market a busy place. With a shopping basket in one hand, David regaled Cassidy on various produce and provisions within the market. He strolled through the store at a leisurely pace, stopping many times to identify something and to talk a little about its origin and history.

At first, Cassidy was not particularly interested in the store, but that quickly changed. David’s colorful and, at times, amusing tales of the market’s history and its contents became a source of entertainment. She followed him from site-to-site as he stopped for samples of fruits and vegetables, fresh baked breads, mustards, sauces and cheeses. He always insisted that she try a sample, which invariably she did.

“This is the cheapest date I’ve ever been on,” Cassidy slyly commented with a wide smile.

“Oh, this isn’t lunch,” David returned with a feigned look of shock. “This is an adventure.”

“You could have fooled me,” Cassidy returned with a chuckle.

She had no sooner spoken when David’s attention turned to something new that caught his eye.

“Come over here. Let’s try the homemade guacamole.”

Cassidy followed David’s lead, amused at his passion for foods and flavors. She was soon enthralled by the whole experience. The energy of the crowd and the smell of food soon mingled with David’s enthusiastic descriptions and narratives. Halfway through their time in the store, her reserve fell away. She began to enjoy her exploration of the store with David. She asked questions and pointed out locations that she wanted to explore. She became as committed as he with their expedition inside the Whole Foods Store.

David completed his shopping in little more than half an hour. During their time in the market, he acquired two halibut steaks, a pineapple, limes, asparagus spears and a baguette of French bread. When they returned to the car, Cassidy did not wait for instructions before heading out. She assumed that David would be preparing their meal at his club. But she soon discovered her assumption was wrong when he directed her to turn in a different direction. 

“Where are we going?” Cassidy asked, glancing to her right.

“I’m going to cook for you, Detective.”

“Yes, but I thought we were going to your club.” Cassidy questioned with confusion and suspicion.

“No, I would just be in the way there,” David explained casually. “And that’s not my kitchen.”

Cassidy’s interest in the coming meal suddenly went away.

“You know, I really think we should call it an afternoon. The market was fun and filling, and it’s too late for lunch anyway.”

“Then we’ll call it dinner,” David quickly countered. “It’ll take me an hour to prepare it. Your appetite should return by then, and I promise not to make you eat all of your vegetables.”

Cassidy had no immediate reply, but David clearly saw her mind searching for one.

“Relax, Detective Tremaine, I promise not to bite.”

David’s teasing remark made Cassidy feel like a little girl again. He was the only person, at this time in her life, to have such an effect on her. That was the one thing about him that she found most annoying. She stiffened her resolved in reaction to his jibe. 

“What about your club?”

“It can function for one night without me,” David answered without much thought.

Cassidy was irritated by the ease of his responses but kept it to herself. She needed to avoid looking afraid and to prove to herself that she was not. For the next five minutes, Cassidy followed his directions to the underground parking of a fifteen-floor, condominium complex on 5th Avenue. She maintained her silence up until the moment they stepped out of the car.

“Wow! We do live well,” Cassidy smugly commented. 

“I try to,” David returned as he led Cassidy to the elevator.

The building was built in the 1930s. The interior was well maintained and upgraded to the standards of the day. David stepped out of the elevator on the eighth floor. Cassidy followed him a short distance to his condominium door. He opened the door and invited her in.

“Let me take your coat,” David offered after closing the door.

Cassidy peeled off her trench coat and blazer to reveal a tan, long-sleeved, pullover blouse with a high scoop neckline. Her blouse was tucked into her pants, and her holster, minus the gun, was clipped to her belt behind her right hip. David took Cassidy’s coats and laid them in a hall chair, then he guided her into the living room.

“Make yourself at home,” David invited.

Cassidy walked into a spacious room that was sparsely decorated with elegant furniture. She wandered across the living-room toward the large bay windows as though compelled. When she reached the windows, she found the view of Central Park captivating. As she wandered the room and enjoyed the view, David delivered the groceries to a kitchen counter. He then went into the master bedroom, removed his suitcoat and tie and unfastened the top button to his shirt. After making himself comfortable, he went back into the kitchen and opened a bottle of chardonnay. He partially filled a wine glass then carried it into the living room.

“Do you like the view?” David asked as he presented the glass of wine to Cassidy.

“Your home is very attractive, Mr. . . . David,” Cassidy stated.

David accepted the compliment with a brief smile. He walked over to his stereo system and started a digital mix of music from an assortment of artists. Some of his favorites included Spandau Ballet, Stevie Wonder, Duran-Duran, Elton John, the Eurythmics, Celine Dion and Whitney Huston.

“Fill free to explore,” David suggested with a slight head and shoulder bow. “Our lunch slash dinner will be ready in about an hour.”

Cassidy accepted with a nod and watched as David went back into the kitchen. She soon began trailing through the condominium at her leisure.

The condo was meticulously clean and devoid of clutter. The décor was Art Deco with a light and bright color scheme. The condo had two bedrooms and three bathrooms.

“Did you choose the furnishings?” Cassidy called out as she examined the master bedroom.

“No,” David returned from the kitchen. “I hired an interior decorator. Why? Is there a problem with the décor?”

“No, no problem,” Cassidy answered in a casual voice. “I was just curious.”

Cassidy continued to look around. After a few minutes, she came to linger in front of family photos hanging in the hall. She saw several people who looked to be twenty or more years older than David in one or more of the pictures.

“Are these pictures of your family?” Cassidy asked.

“Yes,” David called out.

“No sisters or brothers…?” Cassidy asked.

“No, just me. I’m an only child.”

Cassidy wandered into the kitchen with her glass of wine in hand and a sly look.

“That explains it.”

“Explains what,” David asked, glancing away from his food preparations to Cassidy.

“You’re the only child of a wealthy family,” Cassidy explained with a smug little smile. “I bet they pampered you, sent you to best schools and tried to give you every advantage.”

David continued preparing the meal as he smiled at Cassidy’s assessment.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“I don’t know,” Cassidy returned while giving David a studied look. “I suppose that depends on the person you grow up to be.”

David paused to consider Cassidy’s words and then without looking at her, he smiled bashfully.

“I fear I won’t measure up well when you consider me that way.”

“Why is that?” Cassidy asked.

“I think my parents had grand ambitions for me. I doubt my decision to become an entrepreneur solely devoted to expanding my financial portfolio was not what they had in mind.”

“I was talking about who you are inside,” Cassidy explained softly.

“I know,” David returned along with a smile and a look her way. “But who you are inside is a decision you make every day. It’s the past that you can’t change.”

“Do you have a past that you want to change?” Cassidy asked.

“If only I could,” David responded with a thoughtful look.

The sincerity in David’s voice interested Cassidy more than his words, but she chose not to pry. She changed the subject to the meal, its ingredients and preparation. David reveled in the conversation and explained the process of preparing it every step along the way.

It was half past six when Cassidy and David sat down for their lunch/dinner. They faced each other from the far ends of a five-foot long table in the dining area to the left of the bay windows. Outside, the sun was low in the sky and the streets of the city were shrouded in shadows from the buildings that bordered them. Cassidy was uncomfortable with the intimacy of the evening, especially with David. He brought her discomfort to a whole new level because of her intense attraction to him.

There was little conversation between them during their meal. On one occasion, David asked if she found the meal to her liking, at which she returned that it was delicious. They spoke briefly about Cassidy’s job and her plans for the future. She reciprocated by inquiring into David’s long-term goals. An hour after beginning their meal, they were out of food and conversation.

“I should go,” Cassidy hesitantly declared after a moment of silence.

“Okay,” David politely agreed.

David rose from his chair and stepped away from the table. His manner was calm with no evidence that he opposed her decision to leave. But his outward appearance did nothing to relieve Cassidy of her anxiety over their parting. Her dread was not due to her reluctance to go. It was her concern that he might ask her to stay, and she had no idea what she would say if he did.

“Uh, thank you for the dinner slash lunch,” Cassidy said as she got up from her chair.

“My pleasure,” David replied.

Cassidy hesitated for a moment with an indecisive stare. Her breathing went shallow and her heart thumped in her chest as she weighed and measured every nuance of David’s manner. Scenarios and machinations raced through her mind. What did it mean? What was he suggesting? After an awkward moment of silence, she turned and started for the door. David followed a step behind, off her left.

“Let me get that for you,” David said as he stepped forward and gathered up her coats.

David held her blazer so that she could slip into it. When she turned around, they were inches apart and Cassidy froze. Her eyes locked in on his, and she caught her breath.

“So, Detective Tremaine, did I pass the audition?” David asked with a faint smile.

Standing so close to David left Cassidy feeling completely befuddled. She failed to understand his question let alone produce an answer. The best she could do was repeat it with a look of confusion.

“Audition?”

“Do I get a second date?” David asked with a more pronounced smile.

“Oh,” Cassidy suddenly gushed with awareness. “I—I, you don’t want to date me, Mr. Burrell. We…”

“David,” he interjected before Cassidy could finish.

Cassidy was startled and confused by David’s sudden correction. Shortly her mind recovered and went into a frantic search for an excuse to say no. But she had trouble finding a reason that could bring her to say the word. Suddenly, the thought of rejecting David’s attentions was more terrifying to her than the act of giving in to them. Her confusion held her in a state of indecision. She stared into David’s eyes while he stood a foot away. At that moment, she felt weak. Her mind and body felt as if they were powerless to stop him from taking her then and there. Her breathing came out in soft pants. Shortly, her mind began to reason out an excuse, a lie, a deception to convince him to set her free. She thought that he might retract his request if he believed she was gay. She took a deep breath to fortify herself to deliver her subterfuge, and then she froze. Her conviction to say it failed her; she could not speak the words.

“Stay.” David whispered into the silence between them.

That one word ignited a flare of terror inside Cassidy. She took a step back with shock on her face.

“I—I have to go.” She stammered.

As she spoke, Cassidy turned around toward the door with her trench coat in hand and reached for the knob.

“No, you don’t,” David countered as he reached past her and secured the door shut with his hand.

Cassidy leaned against the door, breathless and terrified. She paused there momentarily then dropped her trench coat, spun around, threw her arms about David’s neck and kissed him passionately. He, in turn, reached his arms around Cassidy’s waist and pulled her off the floor and into a bear hug and pinned her against the door. In full embrace, David turned around and walked them both back into the living room. Their kisses grew frenetic. There were no more words between them. At that moment, physical gratification commanded both of their mental faculties.

David set Cassidy down on her feet, grasped the collar of her blazer and began to peel it off her. Cassidy quickly dropped her arms to assist his effort while desperately trying to keep her lips on his. She wiggled out of her blazer then threw her arms back around David’s neck. They stood in the middle of the living room for some time kissing and clutching each other with increasing vigor. David unbuckled Cassidy’s belt, then her pants. He pulled her blouse out of her trousers and reached beneath it to caress her bare skin. He reached up and cupped Cassidy’s head between his hands and rained more kisses down on her face. Cassidy brought her hands to his chest and began to rip his shirt open one button at a time. Then she unbuckled his belt and opened his pants. David scooped her up into his arms and carried her off to the master bedroom while she feverishly attended to his face and neck with her lips.

In the master bedroom, David tossed Cassidy onto the bed then peeled off his shirt. Kneeling atop the bed, Cassidy pulled her blouse off and threw it on the floor. She then unclipped her holster and threw it down with her blouse on the floor. Balancing himself first on one foot and then the other, David hastily flung his shoes and socks off in different directions. Cassidy followed his lead. She laid back on the bed and started untying the left ankle high boot she was wearing. David joined her several seconds later and pulled her left boot off her foot. He then grabbed the right boot and began untying it. Cassidy pulled off her left sock and then reached over to assist David with her right boot. A few seconds later her right boot was off, quickly followed by the right sock. David then relieved himself of his pants and underwear in one motion. Cassidy was momentarily frozen with surprise as she watched him. Then she began to wiggle out of her own pants. David grabbed the bottom of her trousers and pulled them off her in one tug. As he threw her pants onto the floor, Cassidy scurried up into a kneeling position at the head of the bed and froze with her eyes fixed on David. Then she unfastened her bra, slipped it off and tossed it to the floor. She stopped again with her eyes locked on David as he began to crawl on the bed toward her. She watched him as he grabbed her by the legs and pulled them out from under her. Cassidy fell back onto the bed; her eyes fixed on David; her breath coming out in deep pants. Pausing to stare intensely into each other’s eyes, David reached down and slid Cassidy’s panties off her hips and along the length of her legs. When she was free of them, he threw them to the floor. He hesitated a moment to fill his eyes with her, and then he leaned down over her until he straddled her with his arms above and she straddled him with her legs below. Cassidy moaned at the feel of his erection. She moaned louder when he entered her. Over the next hour, they made love twice, and through it all, they did not exchange a single word.


	14. Weekend in Paradise

Cassidy and David made love multiple times over the course of the night. By 1 a.m., exhaustion overtook them, and they fell off into a deep sleep. It was the motion of David climbing out of bed that awakened Cassidy just past five in the morning. She waited until he came out of the bathroom before releasing a fear that came to her mind.

“So, what number am I?”

David was halfway between the bed and the bathroom door when he stopped abruptly at her question.

“What do you mean?” David queried back.

“You must have had other women in this bed,” Cassidy challenged while she laid naked and prone beneath the bedspread. “What number am I.”

“You’re the first,” David answered softly.

Cassidy silently studied David as she considered his answer. She paid no attention to the fact that he was standing nude in the middle of the room. She searched for something in his manner that suggested he lied, but she saw no indication of it.

“Well, maybe not this bed then,” Cassidy conceded with a hint of reluctance. “But you have been with other women in other beds?”

“A few,” David agreed with a nod. “But they were different.” 

“Different how?” Cassidy asked with a trace of suspicion.

David paused with a small smile that bordered on a smirk. He softened his manner and spoke in a comforting tone.

“I didn’t seduce them. I allowed them to seduce me.”

Cassidy thought about his reply for a moment and then responded with a shrug.

“And how is that different?”

“I like you, Detective,” David said softly. “And I want you to like me.”

His answer did not ease Cassidy’s suspicions. Her defenses were up, and she interpreted subterfuge in everything he said. The possibility that he was sincere was not a consideration. She was unable to believe it which caused her to be overly defensive.

“And how many women have you said that to?” Cassidy asked, feigning indifference.

David recognized Cassidy’s fear of being just another conquest and turned to face her. He slowly moved to her side and knelt next to the bed so that they were eye-to-eye. He paused there, holding her gently with his eyes before answering.

“None. You’re the first.”

Cassidy was so touched that she had to catch her breath. She pushed herself into a sitting position to examine his face. She found the relief she so desperately needed in his expression. 

“Can I believe you?”

David stared into Cassidy’s eyes and smiled, then he leaned in and kissed her softly on her lips.

“When it comes to how I feel, you’re one of the few people who can, Detective Tremaine.”

All her resistance fell away with his answer. She gazed back into his eyes and smiled. 

“Cassidy—call me Cassidy.”

“Cassidy,” David said while reaching over to place his hand on her cheek and softly caress her lips with his thumb. “I would never deliberately hurt you.”

Cassidy took solace from his words and faintly smiled despite her earlier worries. They gazed hopefully at each other until David abruptly broke the connection with a passionate kiss. Cassidy enthusiastically returned his affection by pulling him into her embrace. David pushed himself up from the floor and tumbled into the bed with Cassidy. They rolled into a tangle of arms, legs and kisses that quickly turned into sex. Twenty minutes later, they were half asleep in each other’s arms again.

Cassidy stirred to consciousness shortly after seven-thirty later that morning while nestling atop David’s chest. Sunlight filtering through the curtains proved to be too much for her to ignore. Cassidy grumbled at the annoyance and put her hands over her eyes, trying to remain comfortable within David’s embrace.

“What do you want for breakfast,” David asked.

“Don’t bother,” Cassidy moaned. “I should be going home.”

“No, you’re not leaving,” David teased. “I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

“I have to go,” Cassidy pouted with a laugh. “My family is going to be looking for me.”

“I have a phone,” David informed her mockingly.

Cassidy knew that communication with her family was not a problem. She heard her cellphone vibrate more than five times during her stopover at the hospital and later adventures yesterday. She had little doubt that the callers were either one of her parents or one of her brothers. She suspected that there might have been one or more calls while she slept, and she had no doubt that there would be more calls to come later this morning. David was the reason she felt she should go home. She was not ready to explain him to her family. She was not sure who she was to him or vice versa.

Cassidy knew her parents and siblings were already aware that she did not go straight home from work yesterday. Her home phone would have been the first number they tried. And they would have likely tried it repeatedly yesterday evening. By going home this morning, she believed there was a chance to avoid any question about where she spent the night. It was not a major concern for her, but it was in her nature to avoid unnecessary questions.

“I have a life, relatives, friends, waiting for me at home,” Cassidy said evasively. “I should get back to that.”

“You have a weekend that you can use any way you want,” David countered as he pushed himself up onto one arm and turned toward her. “Spend it with me. Your friends and family will still be there when you go home Monday morning. I promise.”

Cassidy was flattered by his invitation and responded with a wide smile. She had not expected him to be willing to spend his entire weekend with her and away from his club. To her, it was another indication of his affection for her. She could barely contain her glee. She giggled briefly and then sat up and kissed him. She broke from their embrace with a look of mild shock.

“I have nothing to wear.”

“Mi armario es tu armario,” ( _My closet is your closet_ ) David replied with a wide smile.

Cassidy flashed David a big grin.

“Really?”

“Absolutely,” David insisted before grabbing Cassidy by the waist, pulling her down on the bed and smooching her neck.

For several seconds, Cassidy giggled under David’s intense ministrations. She then pushed him back with a grin.

“So, what are we supposed to do here, just the two of us, for the whole weekend?” Cassidy asked while barely containing a grin.

David pretended to ponder the question a moment.

“I believe I have a Parcheesi board in my storage closet,” David said with a frown.

Cassidy snickered at his suggestion and shook her head.

“No?” David questioned with a look of surprise. “Well, I’m sure I have a deck of cards around here somewhere,” he continued with a confused expression.

“I don’t think so,” Cassidy declined while restraining a grin.

“Are you sure?” David asked with a confused look. “Gin Rummy is a very diverting game.”

Cassidy shook her head while desperately holding back a laugh.

“Wow! No cards either,” David complained with fake dismay.

Cassidy lost control and briefly let her laughter out. David returned her laugh with a silent grin and then he contrived a look of seriousness.

“Well then in that case, we’ll just have to spend the weekend in bed.”

David nuzzled and smooch Cassidy’s neck. She giggled under his attention. Then he shifted his interest down to her breast. Cassidy laughed and gasped for air attempting to speak.

“So, your plan is to keep me naked in your bed?”

David stopped fondling Cassidy’s breast and moved up to look her in the face.

“Pretty much, yes,” David replied with a smile.

David began kissing Cassidy softly on the tip of her nose, her cheeks and chin. He then nuzzled her neck again. Cassidy suppressed a laugh then moaned. Moments later, they found themselves wrapped in each other’s arms engaged in deep and playfully exploratory kissing.

“Spend the weekend with me, Cassidy,” David whispered breathlessly.

Cassidy smiled at David then gave him a soft kiss before responding.

“Okay, but I’m not spending it in bed.”

David returned an elated smile then kissed Cassidy on the lips, jumped out of the bed and raced into the bathroom while querying her for a breakfast selection. Cassidy lounged in the bed while David showered and brushed his teeth. When he finished, he quickly got dressed, stole another kiss from Cassidy and went into the kitchen to prepare her selection.

Cassidy climbed out of bed and took her turn in the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, she emerged wrapped in a towel with another around her hair. She savored the smells of bacon, eggs, toast and coffee that David sent wafting from the kitchen, but her first thought was to search for something to wear. Wearing the same clothes that she arrived in was unthinkable since she was not going back home. Now that her plans had changed, she needed something clean and comfortable, so she targeted David’s wardrobe for a solution.

Cassidy’s cellphone startled her when it began to vibrate. She pulled a pair of pajamas out of David’s bottom dresser drawer then rushed to answer it. She had anticipated that someone in her family would want to speak with her due to her involvement in the warehouse fire, and her suspension from the force, and her absence from home. Cassidy had no wish to talk about any of those things, least of all her absence from home, but she was eager to dispel any concerns they might have about her wellbeing.

“Hi Mom,” Cassidy said after hearing her mother’s voice.

“Are you alright?” A startled Margaret asked.

“I’m fine, Mom,” Cassidy assured.

“We heard you were in the hospital and the department suspended you,” Margaret prattled on. “And then you didn’t go home. The whole family has been worried sick. We’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday evening.”

“I’m fine,” Cassidy insisted a second time.

“But, where are you?”

Margaret’s question informed Cassidy that her mother was aware that she was not at home. Cassidy was not surprised, so the question made it clear to Cassidy that there was no need for her to pretend to be home. She thought it likely that her mother or one of her brothers had probably tried to contact her yesterday and this morning.

“I spent the night with a friend,” Cassidy explained with an air of indifference.

“And you didn’t think to call someone so that we would know that you’re alright,” Margaret challenged with disbelief.

“It just happened,” Cassidy retorted defensively. “It wasn’t planned, Mom. I just lost track of the time.”

“Did you lose your phone too?” Margaret continued with incredulity in her tone.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” Cassidy insisted with emphatic finality. “I promise the next time I get suspended and decide to spend the night with a friend I will call you right away.” 

“Okay, okay honey, I’m sorry,” Margaret responded in a conciliatory tone. “I was worried. But you’re okay?”

“Yes, Mom, I’m fine.” Cassidy said in a passive voice.

“So, why were you in the hospital?” Margaret asked, still worried.

“I fell, Mom. That’s all. It’s nothing…”

Before Cassidy could finish her sentence, David popped into the bedroom doorway with a message.

“Your breakfast is going to get cold if you don’t…”

David stopped short when he saw Cassidy put her hand over the mouthpiece of her cellphone.

“Who was that?” Margaret asked after hearing David’s voice.

David whispered out an apology as he backed out of the room looking mildly stunned.

“That’s my friend,” Cassidy confessed hesitantly.

“A man,” Margaret declared.

“Yes, Mom. My friend is a man.”

“Oh,” Margaret returned with a smile in her voice.

There was a moment of silence between mother and daughter. Cassidy braced herself for her mother’s next words.

“So, when will you be returning home?” Margaret asked, amused and interested.

“I don’t know, Mom,” Cassidy answered with more than a hint of annoyance.

“Well, can I call you at home this evening?” Margaret pried with a little pleasure.

“You know, Mom,” Cassidy countered with some exasperation for the conversation. “I think I should call you.”

There was another moment of silence between them. Then Margaret felt playfully inspired.

“You know what, I’ll call anyway. You might forget.”

Cassidy’s exasperation reached a whole new level. At that moment, she knew that trying to conceal her plans from her mother was a waste of time. Aware of her mother’s motivation, Cassidy elected to tell Margaret as much as she needed know to end her inquisition.

“I won’t forget, Mom. I’m not going to be home until Sunday afternoon at the earliest. I will call you when I get in.”

“Oh,” Margaret responded with surprise and delight. “So, you’re going to spend another night with your—friend.”

“Yes, Mom,” Cassidy confirmed with impatience. “Tell everyone I’m okay. I have to go.”

“Okay, dear. Have fun,” Margaret returned, sounding both pleased and amused.

Cassidy disconnected the call then took a deep breath to shake off the effects of her mother’s interrogation. Feeling renewed, Cassidy dressed for her day with David. She arrived in the kitchen wearing a pair of his black silk pajamas. When they were both sitting at the table eating, David inquired about her call. Cassidy dismissively explained it as a checkup call from her mother. 

“That reminds me… I don’t have a power cord for my phone,” Cassidy reflected aloud.

“That’s not a problem,” David returned. “Forward your calls to my home phone.

Cassidy considered his suggestion with skepticism.

“Well, I have to be able to make outgoing calls,” She explained with a contemplative expression.

“My phones can do that too,” David said with a hint of sarcasm.

“I know that,” Cassidy returned with a wide smile. “But I need to be able to call out on my cellphone.”

“Detective Tremaine, are you trying to hide me from your family?” David asked in a mocking tone.

“It’s not that,” Cassidy immediately countered.

Then she paused to consider what she just said and began again.

“Well, it’s mostly not that.”

David gave Cassidy a look that said he was confused by her answer, and for a moment she resisted the temptation to explain.

“My cellphone is my link to the precinct. I wouldn’t feel comfortable disconnected from it.”

“My phone is registered with 9-1-1.” David reported with a dismayed look.

“No, it’s just a police protocol thing,” Cassidy was quick to explain. “In an emergency, all I have to do is dial into my precinct. Because they know my number, they won’t ask a lot of questions. It saves time.”

“So, detective, are you saying that you’re afraid to be alone with me without backup on standby?” David questioned with a smirk.

“No,” Cassidy answered with a playful scowl. “Just forget I said anything. I’ll turn the phone off and check for message every few hours.”

“That sounds like a plan,” David retorted with a laugh.

Cassidy dug into her breakfast and said nothing more about her cellphone. After breakfast, she and David spent the day lounging, watching movies, cooking, cleaning and making love. After dinner, they spent a few hours strolling through Central Park under a cloudless, star filled night. They returned to the condo after 9 p.m., made love, noshed on pizza and wine, and slowly fell asleep in front of the television.

For Cassidy, it was the end of one of the better days of her life, and the best day she had lived for several years. She had not given any thought to her job or the Greenbelt Nine for the entirety of the day. It had become a day that she never wanted to end. All her reservations and fears were gone. He was the man of her dreams and she was not reluctant to show him. Her favorite place to be was nestled in his arms. She had no desire to go anywhere or to see anything that would require them to behave differently from how they were when they were alone. She was at the height of her passion for David. While she was with him, the rest of the world did not exist. 

It was shortly past 7 a.m., Sunday, when Cassidy and David climbed out of bed. They had been awake for more than an hour, but a bit of amorous frolicking delayed their departure. Their love play extended to wherever they were when together. They showered together. They prepared breakfast together, and they washed the dishes together. Everything that was a chore two days ago was an opportunity for the two of them to interact with each other.

When the preliminaries of the morning were behind them, Cassidy and David moved into mid-day with no plans. They followed their instincts and made decisions on the fly. They rarely chose to do anything that took them into the company of others. Because of their natural drives and impulses, their activities today mirrored the day before. Shortly past 4 p.m., their progression deviated from their established pattern. Cassidy made her third check for messages on her cellphone. She found three messages waiting, but the one from Lt. Graham altered the course of her day.

_“Cassidy, this is Lt. Graham. Andrew Lantz’s body was found in Dutchess County a couple of hours ago. He’s the owner of the warehouse. It looks like suicide, but the locals are still investigating that. The cause of death is a gunshot wound to the head. I’m told that a handgun was found at the sight, along with a handwritten note confessing to the Greenbelt Nine murders. So, if this plays out the way it looks then you may be up for another commendation. Either way you’re off suspension. Your shield and your ID will be waiting for you tomorrow.”_

“What’s wrong?” David asked after seeing her expression change.

“I’m off suspension,” Cassidy answered with a stunned inflection.

“Already?” David questioned with surprise.

“Yeah. I think it’s over,” Cassidy replied, bewildered and in awe.

The investigation that had been her preoccupation a few days earlier felt like a distant memory at that moment. She remembered how important it was to her, but her effort to rekindle that obsession was not working. Somehow the case had deteriorated into a small event in her life that had come to an end. She concluded that her passionate feelings for David had relegated the investigation to the back of her mind.

“They got him?” David asked, referring to the owner of the warehouse.

“He’s dead,” Cassidy answered with a perplexed expression. “The case is over. He confessed.”

“So, you go back to work tomorrow?” David asked.

“Yeah.”

There was a little sorrow in Cassidy’s voice. She had already made it her plan to leave for home by 6 p.m. James had called earlier and left a message that he would deliver Cynthia and John to her at 8 p.m. She had every intention of delaying her departure time for as long as she could. But now she had reason to move that time forward. She wanted to be in a position to hear more news as it came in.

“I have to go,” Cassidy confessed to David after a moment of thought.

“Okay,” David agreed with a soft smile.

Cassidy looked intently at David with a small, sad smile. She was worried.

“Will I see you again?”

“Yes,” David insisted energetically. “You’re not rid of me, Detective Tremaine.”

Cassidy’s smile broadened. She stepped in close to David, and with her arms wrapped around his torso, she pulled him into a passionate kiss.

“So, I’ll call you tomorrow,” Cassidy said when they broke for air.

“I’ll be out of town tomorrow,” David returned without a moment’s hesitation. “I have some affairs to deal with in London. But I’ll be back on Thursday and we’ll make plans then, if that’s alright with you.”

“Yes, that’s alright with me,” Cassidy agreed with a smile that was followed by another kiss.

One kiss led to another that quickly blossomed into full on sexual contact. Afterward, Cassidy gathered her things and left. On her ride back to Staten Island with her cellphone plugged into her car’s auxiliary power outlet, she made three calls. The first call she made was to James.

“Where the hell have you been?” James barked.

Cassidy ignored the question and the temperament attached to it in favor of a question of her own.

“Are the kids okay?”

“Yeah, the kids are fine,” James insisted, annoyed. “What’s going on with you? First, I hear that you’re hurt. Then I hear you burned down a warehouse in Brooklyn and you’re suspended from the force. And now there’s a rumor that the suspension is off. And why haven’t you been answering your phone?”

Once again Cassidy ignored James’ raucous speech.

“I got your message about bringing Cynthia and John home at 8 o’clock. I’m just calling to make sure you’re not coming sooner because I’m out of the house right now.”

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” James roared back at Cassidy. 

“Ask Aaron, like you usually do,” Cassidy returned with some heat. “He’ll know everything soon enough. What about the kids?”

Aaron’s continued association with her ex-husband was a source of friction between Cassidy and her older brother. She understood that Aaron and James had been good friends for many months before she first met James. But she had a hard time forgiving her brother for continuing an association with the man that broke her heart.

“You want me to keep them until eight,” James replied in an infuriated tone. “Fine! Message received and understood.”

That was all Cassidy needed to know and wanted to hear. She jumped at the opportunity to end their conversation.

“Good. I have to go.”

Cassidy’s second call went to Lt. Graham. She wanted to know more about Andrew Lantz’ death.

“The Dutchess County Sheriff’s Office believes Lantz’s death was a suicide,” Lt. Graham reported. “But that’s not the official report yet. The suicide note looks to be a match for his handwriting, and the weapon he used is yours.”

Cassidy was surprised to hear that Lantz used her gun to kill himself. She paused to absorb that information. A moment later, Lt. Graham continued his report.

“Needless to say, that puts Lantz inside the warehouse, with you, when the fire started. And it supports your claim that he attacked you.”

Cassidy smiled to herself, then after a moment, her expression changed with a new thought.

“Did the note explain how he killed the Greenbelt Nine or why?” Cassidy asked.

“No,” Lt. Graham answered, “But he does confess to the killings, attacking you and to setting fire to his warehouse.”

“Was there anything else in the note?” Cassidy asked.

“He also confessed to being a distributor of Ecstasy,” Lt. Graham returned with barely a thought to the question. “The fire department confirmed that a couple of accelerants in the warehouse fire were chemicals that could be used for the manufacture of Ecstasy.”

Cassidy paused to consider that last bit of information.

“Is that it?”

“Isn’t that enough?” Lt. Graham questioned back with astonishment. “It clears you and the city of any responsibility for the fire.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Cassidy returned without conviction.

“What’s wrong?”

Cassidy was hesitant with her reply.

“I just have this feeling that some pieces are missing.”

“What pieces?” Lt. Graham quickly asked.

Cassidy paused to consider the question before answering with, “I don’t know.”

Cassidy thought a little more.

“I guess I’m just trying to make sure there are no loose ends.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Lt. Graham assured. “We’re going to sift through this guy’s life from top to bottom.”

“Okay,” Cassidy responded after reflecting upon what she just heard.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Lt. Graham said in closing.

“Yeah, Lieutenant, I’ll be there,” Cassidy returned in kind.

When Cassidy disconnected the call, she was still confused about something, but she could not put her finger on what that was. She thought about it a while but still could not find the thought that eluded her. Then her thoughts turned to her parents. She knew they were waiting for her with multiple questions, and she felt now was the time to entertain them.

“Are you at home, honey?” Margaret Tremaine asked Cassidy over the phone.

“I’m on my way,” Cassidy answered as she drove. “How are you and dad doing?”

“We’re fine except for our concern for you,” Margaret returned with an astonished tone of voice. “Is it true that your suspension has been lifted?”

“Yeah. I get my shield and ID back tomorrow.”

Margaret heard Cassidy’s answer but found herself more interested in the traffic sounds she heard in the background. 

“So where are you right now?”

“I’m just coming into Staten Island,” Cassidy stated as she steered her way over the last quarter of the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge.

“Then come by the house,” Margaret insisted. “I’m sure your father has some questions for you.”

“That’ll be a first,” Cassidy retorted with a mixture of humor and sarcasm.

Margaret took more notice of her sarcasm than the words and quickly reinforced her request with a personal appeal.

“I want to see you.”

Cassidy anticipated a visit to her parents’ home. She suspected they were worried for her and had questions, and she was happy to give them answers regarding her job and the investigation. Her happiness had nothing to do with the end of her suspension and everything to do with the waning feeling of euphoria she was still feeling from her time with David.

“Okay, Mom, I’ll stop by, but I can’t stay long.”

“Good, we’ll be waiting for you,” Margaret cheerfully acknowledged.

It took Cassidy a little more than five minutes to get to her parents’ home. Margaret gave her a big hug as soon as she walked through the front door. Daniel, uncharacteristically, stood further back in the middle of the living-room waiting to greet his daughter.

“Are you hurt?” Daniel asked as he examined his daughter with concern.

Daniel feared that Cassidy had been severely injured in the warehouse fire and assumed that was the reason she stayed away.

“I’m fine, Dad.”

Cassidy recognized her father’s worry and responded with a smile and a hug. Daniel enjoyed their embrace for a moment, and then clasped Cassidy by the shoulders and held her out at arm’s length.

“Then why the hell didn’t you come home?” Daniel demanded with some temper.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Cassidy returned with a smile bordering on a grin.

Cassidy patted her father’s arm and walked out of his grasp. That type of response to one of her father’s angry outbursts was out of character for Cassidy, and that fact did not go unnoticed by Margaret. Their verbal clashes were legendary within the family. Now that she was an adult, it was common for Cassidy to respond to Daniel’s temper with her own.

“I was just a little upset, and I needed some time alone,” Cassidy explained as she slipped out of her coat and sat down on the couch.

Daniel sat in his lounge chair.

“Did you ever stop to think that your mother and I might be worried?” Daniel returned with a tinge of anger.

“I was planning on calling, but mom beat me to it,” Cassidy explained as she crossed her legs and reclined into the couch.

“Are you going to stay for dinner, honey?” Margaret asked hopefully.

“No Mom,” Cassidy responded with a shake of her head. “I just wanted to stop by, show my face and fill you in on what’s going on.”

“Okay,” Margaret agreed with a smile. “I have to get back into the kitchen. Don’t leave without talking to me.”

Margaret turned and set off for the kitchen. The smell of food cooking permeated the house.

“So, what is going on?” Daniel asked with a ruffled brow.

Cassidy responded by giving her father an account of the events that led to her going to the Brooklyn warehouse, what happened when she got there, the repercussions of the fire and the news about Andrew Lantz. Daniel listened to it all without question or comment until she finished her narration.

“You really need to quit this job.”

A broad smile spread across Cassidy’s face in reaction to his comment. Then she pushed herself up off the sofa and walked over to her father.

“I’m sorry, Dad, but that’s not going to happen.”

Cassidy gave her father a kiss on the cheek and then headed off toward the kitchen. Daniel shook his head in resignation as she left.

“I’m going to take off now, Mom,” Cassidy announced as she walked into the kitchen.

Cassidy smiled and gave her mother a kiss on the cheek. Margaret was in the middle of cleaning some recently used cookware when she paused to accept her daughter’s kiss and catch her attention before she could leave.

“You seem to be in a good mood today.”

Cassidy knew where this conversation was going and nearly grinned despite her desire to hide it. She stopped and leaned against the counter not far from her mother.

“I’m off suspension,” Cassidy explained continently. “I’m happy about that.”

“Oh, is that it?” Margaret questioned with a sly smile.

“Yes Mom, that’s it.”

Cassidy took a pause to give weight to that statement.

“But I do have to go.”

Cassidy had just started to leave again when Margaret stopped her with a question.

“What’s your friend’s name?”

Cassidy stopped in her tracks, then turned to look at her mother with a mixture of exasperation and amusement.

“He’s not anyone you know,” she said defensively.

“What difference does that make?” 

Cassidy resigned herself to the idea that she was going to tell her in the end.

“His name is David,” Cassidy stated, slightly aggravated.

“Just David,” Margaret inquired, showing little interest.

“Just David for now,” Cassidy returned.

“Oh, okay,” Margaret surrendered with a smile and a nod.

“Is the interrogation over?” Cassidy asked with a palms up gesture.

“Honey, I hope you don’t think I’m prying. I’m just interested in knowing who your new friend is.”

With an incredulous look, Cassidy watched her mother feign an expression of sincerity. Then she mimicked her mother with her own feigned expression of sincerity.

“Oh, of course not. I would never accuse you of prying.”

Mother and daughter gave each other a momentary silent grin.

“I’m going to take off now, Mom.”

Cassidy turned to leave once again. And once again she was stopped by the sound of her mother’s voice.

“So, how long have you been in love with him?”

Cassidy turned to face her mother once again. She dropped her head and gave it a shake as she pondered the appropriate response.

“What makes you think I’m in love with him?”

Margaret turned from the kitchen sink drying her hands with a towel and gave her daughter a moment of study.

“The last time I saw you this happy you were wrapped around James’ arm.”

Cassidy took a moment to squint her face up at her mother.

“You think you’re so clever.”

Margaret said nothing but her self-satisfied look and a smile spoke volumes. 

“I got to go, Mom,” Cassidy said as she turned to leave the kitchen with a smile of her own. “Bye.”


	15. The Gathering

Cassidy was in good humor Monday morning, due in a large part to thoughts of her time spent with David and in part to her kids, Cynthia and John. She was grateful to be in the company of her children again, and she showered them with affection up until the moment they went out the door to start their day at school. When she walked through the doors of the 122nd, all eyes briefly glanced at her, but she took no notice. She looked at various individuals on a couple of occasions to return a welcome, but other than that she walked through the precinct with little interest in the people around her. When she reached her squad room, she flashed a smile at her gathering co-workers and made an immediate turn for Lt. Graham’s office.

“Take a seat,” Lt. Graham instructed.

Lt. Graham was seated at his desk when Cassidy entered his office and took a seat in one of the two chairs facing him.

“You dodged a bullet. There were people over my head who were breathing fire every time they spoke your name.”

“But that’s not the case anymore?”

“Yours wasn’t the only neck in the noose,” Lt. Graham bellowed back with a look that said he did not like that response. “The Captain called me in and demanded that I explain what you were doing. And I didn’t know what to tell him.”

“I’m sorry about that, Sir.”

“Here,” Lt. Graham said as he pulled Cassidy’s badge and ID out of his top drawer and set them down in front of her.

“Thank you,” Cassidy acknowledged as she collected them.

Cassidy put the ID and badge in her inside blazer pocket.

“Are there going to be any more surprises?”

“Ah, no,” Cassidy answered indecisively. “I mean, I don’t think so. I haven’t seen any of the reports on Alan Lantz, but it sounds like we’ve got him.”

“Well, let’s get one thing straight right now,” Lt. Graham grumbled back. “You’re off this investigation. You are to have nothing more to do with it.”

“Okay,” Cassidy replied, contritely.

Cassidy was already indifferent to the investigation. Putting it behind her was the plan. Lt. Graham’s order for her do so was completely unnecessary her mind.

“So, we’re in agreement on this?”

“Yes,” Cassidy readily agreed. “The investigation is pretty much over now, isn’t it? I mean it’s just a matter of finding out what this guy was into.”

“Well, there is also the matter of his accomplice,” Lt. Graham corrected.

“Accomplice?” Cassidy questioned back.

Lt. Graham took notice of Cassidy’s confused expression and quickly spoke to it.

“The female voice—you said you heard a woman’s voice in the warehouse.”

Just prior to that moment, Cassidy had no recollection of hearing a female voice in the warehouse or ever saying that she had. She hesitated for several seconds rekindling the memory when Lt. Graham broke into her revery.

“Was there or was there not a third person in the warehouse?” Lt. Graham asked with a concerned look.

“Ah, yeah,” Cassidy returned with a bewildered expression. “I can’t believe I forgot that.”

“If you’re having some issues with your thinking…”

“No, no, I remember. I’m just surprised that I forgot, that’s all.”

“Is it that you forgot or that you made it up?” Lt. Graham sternly challenged.

“What?” Cassidy questioned back with a shocked expression.

“I have detectives out there looking for a female accomplice based on what you told me. So far, they have found no one that’s a fit for that role. Andrew Lantz’s wife died three years ago, he’s single and his daughter lives in California. On top of that, Andrew Lantz was five-eight, not six-feet. He was over-weight, and he was in the early stages of congestive heart failure. Now I’m asking you, keeping in mind that you took a bump to the head, could your recollection of what happened be—distorted?” 

Cassidy did not know how to respond to his question. Her memory of what transpired in the warehouse was in her mind, but it existed as a faint, insignificant memory. It took Lt. Graham’s retelling of her own report to awaken it in her head. How and why she had devalued the event so much caused her to question if it happened at all, or to the extent that she reported it. She soon latched on to the idea that her new romance had distracted her far more than expected. She concluded that it did happen.

“No, I think it happened just the way I said.”

“You think?” Lt. Graham questioned with a mixture of concern and suspicion.

“It just seems like such a long time ago now. I’m just having a little trouble piecing it together in my mind.”

Lt. Graham gave Cassidy a wary exam for several seconds.

“If what you say is true then Andrew Lantz’s death was either a suicide done to protect someone else or a murder made to look like a suicide. Either way the only thing we’ve got to go on is the name Christian.”

“Christian?” Cassidy asked with a puzzled look.

The memory of the name flooded into her mind. She remembered the tall man in the warehouse. She remembered the glint of light off his eyes when he looked at her. She remembered how he turned away when the female voice called his name. But her pronunciation was not an exact match for the name Christian.

“Yeah, that’s the name you told me,” Lt. Graham replied. “That was the name you heard, wasn’t it?” He challenged after taking a moment to examine Cassidy’s confused expression.

At that moment, Cassidy’s mind began to wander. The name she recalled had a foreign sound, possibly a European accent. And then she remembered the writing in the pictures. The writing on the cave walls. She remembered the translation of the writing and the name of the author. And then she remembered Janice’s words.

_“This is not a word for word translation and the pronunciation of the names are probably off.”_

The recollection startled her, and she suddenly looked up at Lt. Graham in wide-eyed amazement.

“Is Christian the name you heard?” Lt. Graham asked again more forcefully.

“No, not Christian,” Cassidy returned hesitantly. “But it sounded something like Christian.”

“So now it’s not Christian,” Lt. Graham returned with exasperation.

Cassidy took a moment to make sense of the memories and images that were racing through her mind. Lt. Graham examined her while he waited for some new thought or memory to come from her.

“Is that all?” Cassidy asked with a sudden look of surprise.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Lt. Graham confirmed with some disgust. “You’re still on desk duty.”

“Okay,” Cassidy acknowledged as she got up and started for the door.

Cassidy hurried out of Lt. Graham’s office and raced to her desk. She paid no attention to the greetings from other detectives. Her focus was on her desk and what she expected to find there. After sitting down, she turned on her computer. When it was fully on, she accessed the Greenbelt Nine case file and navigated her way to the Romanian cave pictures and specifically to the writing on the wall. Her attention went back and forth between the picture and the translation several times. And suddenly, her mind recalled the words from Grigore Stefanescu.

_“We dug them up. We let them out. Your city is infested with vampires.”_

Cassidy recalled those words again and again. She began to reason that this case had a connection to a 1200-year-old writing on a cave wall in Romania. She told herself that was impossible. There was no such thing as vampires. After a few deep breathes, sober thinking wrestled control away from that outlandish idea. She began to relax into the idea that it was all just a coincidence. Her mind was still settling into that position when Nina raced up to her desk.

“Hi, wow! You’re back,” Nina blurted out excitedly. “I heard about what happened at that warehouse in Brooklyn. I thought you were a goner. It was really making me feel guilty for telling you the cell phone on the other end was in there. But I’m glad to see that it worked out. So, I hear you got him.”

Cassidy endured Nina’s babble with a modest smile and an apprehensive look. 

“We’re not sure. They’re still looking into the guy.”

“I thought I heard he confessed in a note,” Nina challenged.

“He did, but we have reason to think that he may have had one or more accomplices,” Cassidy replied while still pondering her answer.

“In that case, I think you’re really going to like what I have,” Nina responded with enthusiasm.

“What’s that?”

“I found a cell number that looks like it could belong to your accomplice,” Nina gushed excitedly. “It’s assigned to a prepaid phone from the same lot as the others and it went active eleven days-ago.”

Cassidy was surprised to hear what Nina was saying, but the claim was not enough to convince her that she was right. Her first thought was to challenge her assertion.

“What makes you think this is the new phone?”

“Because it’s the last phone in that lot to be activated,” Nina explained excitedly. “I checked it against a list that the cell company accidentally emailed to me. All but two of the other phones in that lot were activated more than two months-ago. The two that were activated since then belonged to your suspect, presumably, and they’re no longer active. This is the last prepaid phone from that lot. I think this is your guy. Who else would hold a prepaid phone for that long without using it?”

Cassidy took her time to consider Nina’s new information, and the first thought that popped into her head was the fact that she now had the means to identify the person Albert Haynes was talking to. But that thought became a problem. She would have to convince Lt. Graham to sign a court order request giving her access to the cellphone company’s metadata. She knew a court order would be easier to get than a warrant.

A court order is simply a mandate that requires a person to cooperate or avoid doing something as directed by a court or a judge. It does not involve search and seizures, arrests or the suspension of any civil liberties—all the things that a warrant does. Cassidy knew that a judge would be far more likely to agree to a court order, since the metadata would only contain the basic details of the calls: locations, phone numbers of calls from and to the cellphone, times the calls were made and how long they lasted—not the content of the conversations. And to her way of thinking, that was all she needed.

With access to the cellphone company’s metadata, Cassidy knew that she could track the location of the cellphone while it was activated. Her only concern was that Lt. Graham might not look favorably on her idea because it was hers. After a moment to contemplate the situation, Cassidy looked thoughtfully at Nina.

“I’m going to need you to help me explain this to the Lieutenant” Cassidy instructed.

“Why me?” Nina asked.

“I’m not popular with the lieutenant right now, and I need him to sign off on a request for a court order.”

“I already got it,” Nina declared with a toss of her hands. “The Captain signed off on it.”

“You have a signed court order request from the Captain?” Cassidy questioned with a look of disbelief.

“I’m already plugged into the cell company,” Nina returned with incredulity. “That’s why I’m here.”

Cassidy was astonished. That was the last thing she expected to hear. For the first time, there was a chance that she could learn the identity of Albert Haynes’ secret accomplice. By tracking this prepaid phone, she could pin him or her down to a location in real-time.

“Let’s go,” Cassidy instructed with excitement.

Nina led an eager Cassidy into the IT Workroom, went straight to her computer console, typed in some instructions and waited for the monitor to display the results.

“How did you get the Captain to sign off on a court order?” Cassidy queried as they waited for the data to display.

“It’s what I do,” Nina answered with self-assurance. “I submit requests for court orders a dozen times a month, at least. I don’t investigate crimes; that’s your job. I collect, interpret and analyze technical information and the data it produces. The Captain doesn’t even read my request forms anymore. He just verifies that it's connected to an active case and signs.”

“You’re a godsend,” Cassidy responded with a smile.

Nina accepted the compliment with a smile as she continued to wait. It took several more seconds for the computer to respond. Nina was slightly confused by the results, and Cassidy was even more so.

“Wow!” Nina exclaimed as she examined the map on the monitor. “Isn’t that the same location in Manhattan?”

Cassidy had already recognized the location and was in a state of shock. The sight of The Cavern Nightclub in the middle of the monitor dominated her attention.

“This is it. There’s your proof,” Nina insisted in an excited voice. “It has to be.”

Nina’s words went unheard. Cassidy’s mind was too busy weighing the reasons why this prepaid phone might be at or near The Cavern Nightclub. Her mind could not avoid thinking it was just a coincidence. It was too early in the morning for the club to be open for guests, and the club was not scheduled to be open at all on Mondays. She thought that it might be open for cleaning and deliveries, but who would supervise these activities? David was out of the country. Her best guess was that it was the assistant manager.

“I have to go,” Cassidy announced suddenly.

Cassidy turned and headed for the door.

“What are you going to do?” Nina asked, mildly bewildered.

“I’m going there,” Cassidy explained without hesitation. 

“No,” Nina responded spontaneously. “I mean, shouldn’t you take it to Lt. Graham?”

Cassidy stopped at the door and looked back at Nina.

“Take what?” Cassidy challenged with a stunned expression. “All I’ve got is a phone number and a theory on how it’s linked to this case. And right now, my theories aren’t popular with the Lieutenant. I need a name and evidence that connects that name to Lantz or Haynes or the Greenbelt Nine.”

“But you’re on desk duty,” Nina challenged timidly.

“I feel a headache coming on. I’m going to take a sick day,” Cassidy responded assertively. “Text me that number.”

Cassidy turned, opened the door and left the room.

“Okay,” Nina agreed with a bewildered look.

Cassidy was motivated by a renewed desire to see who was in possession of that phone. It was the same enthusiasm that sent her into that warehouse. She kept feeling that the time she spent with David had somehow drained her of that obsession. The new information she got from Nina had aroused in her the familiar quality of excitement. She had to see this person. She had to know if it was one or more of the booth three regulars from The Cavern. She knew that she would recognize any member of that group when she was close enough to see a face. And if it turned out to be someone she did not know, then she would only need to call the burner phone and watch to see who answers.

Cassidy was two minutes out of the IT room when Nina’s text came through. It took her less than five minutes to make her excuse for going home early, race out of the precinct and drive out of the 122nd parking lot. She drove at her best speed, trying not to disturb the traffic or risk an accident. She feared the owner of the phone would leave before she got there. And she did not want to risk the possibility of that person disposing of the phone before he or she could be found out.

It took Cassidy twenty-minutes to arrive outside of The Cavern. There was no sign of a delivery truck of any kind in the area, which did not support the idea of a coincidence. Of course, there was the possibility that whatever was happening there had finished.

“Is the burner phone still here?” Cassidy asked Nina after she answered her phone call.

It took Nina several seconds to reactivate the trace and examine the readout.

“Yeah, it’s still there,” Nina reported. “It hasn’t moved.”

It took Cassidy a few minutes to find a parking space around the corner from club. She kept her connection with Nina open as she maneuvered her car into a space.

“Do you see him?” Nina’s voice blared into Cassidy’s earpiece.

Cassidy had just gotten out of her car and started walking back to the front of the club when she heard Nina’s question.

“I don’t know,” Cassidy answered as she walked.

Cassidy went quiet after her reply. She was busy examining the faces of the people she saw on the sidewalk who all appeared to be pedestrians just passing by. She thought it highly unlikely that her perpetrator could be any of them. Her instincts told her that the person she was looking for was inside The Cavern Nightclub.

“What do you see?” Nina blared into the silence several seconds later.

“No one I know,” Cassidy reported softly. “Is the signal still stationary?”

“Yes,” Nina replied after taking a moment to examine her monitor.

“Whoever has that cellphone must be inside The Cavern,” Cassidy returned while deciding her next move. “I need to get in there.”

Nina became moderately alarmed when she heard Cassidy’s plan.

“Shouldn’t I tell the lieutenant or the captain?”

“No!” Cassidy quickly commanded. “I’m not supposed to be here. Remember?”

Cassidy dismissed the possibility of a physical altercation at her current location. She was confident that her quarry had no idea as to what she was about. That alone was reason for her to believe she would find no danger there. The warehouse was an unoccupied private property business in an industrial sector of the city with evidence in it that her suspect wanted to keep hidden. Her current expedition was nothing like the situation at the warehouse. This was a busy city street on a weekday morning. What was there for anyone to hide in such a commercial setting?

“But what if something happens?” Nina asked with more concern.

“That’s not going to happen,” Cassidy pondered out loud. “I can manage on my own from here.”

For a moment, Nina was silent with uncertainty.

“I really think I should tell someone where you are.”

Cassidy understood Nina’s concern, but she believed alerting her precinct was the wrong course to take. She was sure Lt. Graham would call her in, and she knew that a 9-1-1 call with her badge number would be the quickest way to get assistance if she needed it. 

“No, Nina,” Cassidy cautioned. “The lieutenant will have me filing paperwork for the rest of the year if he finds out I’m here. I’ll be okay. This is strictly a look and see. I’m not arresting anyone. But if anything does happen, I’ll call 9-1-1.”

Nina considered her plan for a moment then said, “okay.”

“Okay then, I’ll call you later,” Cassidy said then disconnected the call.

Taking the last few steps, Cassidy came to a stop in front of The Cavern Nightclub. As she was making her approach, she had made up her mind to go inside the club. She tried the door and discovered that it was locked, so she pounded on the door three times with the side of her fist and then she waited several seconds for a response. At the end of the wait she pounded three more times and was in the middle of waiting several seconds more when she began to hear the door unlocking from the inside. After a couple of seconds, the door was pushed open.

“Can I help you?” An attractive woman inquired of Cassidy through the half open door.

The woman looked to be in her mid to late twenties, of medium stature with an attractive figure. Her hair was dark brown and shoulder length. Her face was decidedly elegant which made her look out of place as an employee of the club. Her impassive demeanor added support to Cassidy’s conclusion.

“Is David Burrell here?” Cassidy asked after examining the woman.

“No,” the elegant woman at the door answered snobbishly.

The woman paused with her one-word answer, giving Cassidy a haughty stare.

“Is there anything else?”

Cassidy was unperturbed by the woman in front of her. Getting inside the club was the only thought on her mind.

“Yes,” Cassidy responded without hesitation. “I believe I left my scarf in David’s office.”

The woman gave Cassidy a cold, hard stare for several seconds.

“Are you sure that’s what you’re looking for?” The woman asked with a bland expression.

Cassidy was confused by this question. She thought it a strange inquiry for an employee of the club. She gave the woman a look that said she thought the question peculiar.

“Excuse me?”

The woman ignored Cassidy’s remark, then she stepped back and opened the door wider.

“Come in.”

The woman’s response set off an alarm within Cassidy. She got an impression of something menacing about her, but she was not deterred from going in. Plus, she was intrigued to find out why she felt that way about this woman.

The woman shut the door just after Cassidy passed through. Cassidy turned to looked back at the woman, then they stood for a moment smugly examining each other from head-to-toe. The woman was dressed far too formally to be in the process of refurbishing and re-stocking provisions for the nightclub.

“Is there a special event going on?” Cassidy asked, looking at the elegantly dressed woman beside her.

“Yes, very special,” she answered stoically.

“Do you mind if I ask what the event is,” Cassidy casually inquired.

“No, not at all,” the woman returned with a hint of a smile. “I’ll be happy to tell you, if you answer a question for me first?”

Once again Cassidy was baffled by this woman’s manner. Her response now seemed out of place for a guest of the club. She hesitated a moment before replying.

“What’s your question?” Cassidy asked with an edge in her voice.

With a small smile and no hesitation, she asked, “Why are you really here?”

The woman’s unusual question confirmed to Cassidy that she was not a club employee.

“I haven’t seen you here before,” Cassidy questioned with a stern look. “Are you a new employee?”

“I don’t work here” the woman responded with a hint of a nod. “I’m a guest. But unlike you, I was invited.”

The elegant woman paused to give Cassidy a look of satisfaction, then repeated her original question.

“So, tell me, why have you come?”

Cassidy thought the woman in front of her was acting far too bold to be here alone. For a moment, she considered leaving out of fear that there were others hiding in back rooms. But the thought of losing her opportunity to get answers kept her fixed in place.

“I told you,” Cassidy responded with more than a hint of aggravation in her tone. “I left my scarf.”

The woman gave Cassidy a smug look and a slight smile in response. Cassidy briefly endured her haughty demeanor.

“What’s the event?” Cassidy repeated.

The woman’s smile grew in response to her question. A moment later, she briefly looked off toward the entrance to the main room of the club, and said, “I think Lucian should give you that answer. Please go through,” she continued with a gesture of her hand.” 

Cassidy gave the woman a suspicious look. She surreptitiously patted the gun beneath her coat. Her replacement handgun was snugly fixed above her right buttock inside the holster that was attached to her belt. She took comfort from the knowledge that it was right where it was supposed to be. She then turned, walked through the vestibule doorway, past the bar and stopped just inside the main room of the club. The elegant woman came to a stop beside her. 

The first thing Cassidy noticed was the layout of the tables in the room. The twenty small round tables in the middle of the room were configured into a U formation. The bottom end of the U was closest to the stage with two tables pushed together. The remaining eighteen tables ranged along the sides of the U in pairs. There was one chair behind each table. The excess tables and chairs were pushed back and lined up against the sides of the room. There was just enough room on either side of each pair of tables for someone to walk through. Several of the tables had one or more place setting of raw meat appetizers and water.

The next thing Cassidy noticed was a man seated in a chair at the bottom of the U. He was sharply tailored, thin with blond hair. His stare was fixed on her. After taking note of him, Cassidy began to examine the room. There was no light coming from the lamps above the stage or the bar. A few overhead lamps, the wall lamps and lighted exit signs produced all the illumination there was which caused the center of the room to be far dimmer than usual and the perimeter to be far darker. After taking all of this in, Cassidy watched the elegant woman beside her walk across the floor, around to the outer side of the U and lovingly nestle herself into the chair next to Lucian. When comfortably seated, she looked back at Cassidy with a smile and extended an invitation.

“Please, come in.”

Cassidy was unsure if she should go further into the room. She believed the woman was toying with her. She was worried by the empty chairs in front of the place settings, but despite that, her mind was telling her to go in and get answers, while her instincts screamed beware. She entertained an internal debate for a few seconds, then walked into the middle of the U formation coming to a stop half a several feet away from the tables at the bottom of the U, facing the two individuals there.

“Detective Tremaine, your presence here is very unexpected and less than a pleasure, I’m sorry to say.” Lucian greeted solemnly. “But now that you are here, welcome,” he added with a glancing smile.

Cassidy was surprised to hear that he not only knew her name, he knew her station. Her trepidation doubled at hearing this. The only thing stopping her from drawing her weapon was the fact that the man and woman in front of her did not present themselves as physical threats to her. They were calm, composed and seated. For several seconds, she stared at them while her mind wondered who they were. She then began the task of assessing the situation when the situation changed.

Cassidy was startled by the sound of the kitchen doors opening at the left end of the stage. She turned her attention to see the vague black silhouettes of people entering the room. Shortly, a man and a woman, became visible in the dim light. They walked calmly into the room together. The man was about six-feet tall, with a healthy build and handsome. The woman was blond, of average height, thin and pleasing to look at. His demeanor was stoic. She had a slightly snooty air about her as she maintained the hint of a smile on her face.

An instant after taking note of their faces, Cassidy heard movement behind her. She quickly turned to see the faces of four individuals entering the room through the hallway entrance at the right end of the bar. Two of the faces belonged to people she had seen before: Christine Meyer and Evan Pritchard. They strode into the room as an arm-in-arm couple. The second pair, a man and a woman, were unknown to her. The woman was tall and lean, nearly to the point of being gaunt. The man was slightly rotund, thicker in the shoulders than most and of equal stature to the woman but only average for a man. Immediately after taking note of their entrance, she turned her attention back toward the kitchen doors in time to see Ryan Sandoval and Alexandra Hays enter the room. After taking in their faces, Cassidy heard more movement from behind. She spun around in time to see a group of four more individuals saunter into the room through the hallway entrance. Brooke Chapman and Ronald Hollis walked casually into the main room with amused expressions on their faces. They were followed by a second couple that Cassidy had never seen before. The woman was below average in height, cute in appearance and maintained a seemingly wicked smile. The man was slightly above average height and had an imperious air about him. Cassidy nearly went into a panic at the sight of them all spilling into the room from every entrance and with their eyes fixed on her.

Cassidy watched as they moved into the room and down along the outer rim of the U. They kept their eyes fixed on her as they went. She watched as they came to stops behind a place setting on one of the tables. Cassidy immediately believed that all of them were involved in the Greenbelt Nine killings, and she also entertained the thought that her life was in danger. She pushed back her coats and put her hands on her hips. She eased her hand back until she could feel the top of her handgun against the edge of her right-hand thumb.

As Cassidy turned to look back toward Lucian, she unlatched her handgun, stripped her weapon out of its holster and brought it up and aimed it at the center of Lucian’s chest with practiced ease and swiftness. In that same instance, a question came into her mind: Who are you? She began to speak it, or at least she thought she did. Her sense of awareness faded out for what seemed to be a second or two. Her knowledge of this momentary fugue state became apparent as her thinking returned. For a moment, she stood in the middle of the U in silence as she actively worked to restore her wits. Shortly, her consciousness was functional enough to process the information from her senses. A few seconds after that, her memories began to reform. The return of her faculties soon brought Cassidy to the awareness that she was no longer in possession of her gun.

Cassidy realized that her arms were still stretched out in front of her, but there was no gun in her hands. Then she noticed that the booth three regulars and the other six strangers had taken seats behind a place setting. They were examining her behind whispers, giggles and smiles. Her mind struggled to understand how they all came to be settled into chairs without her seeing it happen. After glancing around the tables with a startled look, her eyes came to light on Lucian’s table. On it, she saw her gun and her cellphone. She looked up at Lucian with wide-eyed amazement and a question.

“What are you?”

“Oh, I think we’re well past that question,” Lucian responded with an amused countenance.

With that answer, Cassidy’s feeling of dread increased noticeably. The hope that her wildest imagining was nonsense crossed into the realm of plausibility. She silently stared at Lucian for several seconds before she heard footfalls approaching from the hallway entrance again and spun to see who was entering this time. A slim, good looking man with brown hair was the first to walk into the room. He was slightly under six feet in height. His focus was fixed on his movements as he entered. He did not look at Cassidy as he came to a place setting at the top right of the U-shaped formation of tables. He looked back toward the entrance he emerged from. Cassidy followed his gaze in time to see two more individuals enter the room arm-in-arm. 

The woman who strode through the hallway entrance was of average height with a slender figure. She too was elegantly dressed. Her dark brown hair fell about a foot below her shoulders. Her facial features leaned toward the exotic and she was easily someone most people would call attractive. Her gaze locked onto Cassidy the moment she walked into the room. Cassidy had never seen the woman before, but the man was familiar to her. He was someone she knew and was very much shocked to see. Cassidy watched him as he escorted the woman into the room without returning her look. He kept his gaze low and straight ahead. The couple stopped in front of side-by-side place settings at the top right of the U. The man pulled out the chair and held it for the woman. She, in turn, lowered herself into the seat with overstated grace while holding her gaze on Cassidy. Her escort fixed his gaze on her as she settled into the seat, and Cassidy held her gaze on him. They maintained this quiet triangle of stares for several seconds. Finally, the exotic woman shifted her gaze from Cassidy to address her escort. 

“Aw, Cristiãn _(kris-shē-ôn)_ , she’s lovely. Please share,” she said with overly feigned sincerity.

A shiver shot through Cassidy when she heard these words. She looked down to the woman in wide-eyed terror, then she looked up to the man again. As she did, David Burrell looked up to return Cassidy’s gaze for the first time. He held his position and her stare for several seconds before lowering himself into the chair next to the woman he came in with. Seconds after he was seated, Helga, the average height blond woman that came into the room with Christine and Evan, began a malevolent tone of discourse.

“So, what do we do with you?”

A few brief snickers spewed out from around the room.

“She’s a problem that we must resolve.”

Stefan, the man that Helga came into the room with, responded with a severe stare at Cassidy and a hard edge in his tone. There was a brief silence behind those words as the assembled group shifted their gazes back and forth between Lucian and David. Cassidy noted the speaker and then the glances. She then turned her attention back to David for an explanation.

“There is no hurry on that, Stefan.” Lucian gently counseled after a pause. “We are not all here yet, and Detective Tremaine may prove to be useful.”

“Useful?” Stefan complained argumentatively. “Based upon what I’ve heard, she’s a nuisance.”

“I am a New York City police officer and there are people in the department that know I am here,” Cassidy addressed Lucian in a defiant voice. “They will come here if I don’t call back in another five minutes.”

“Let’s see about that,” Lucian said just before going quiet and holding his stare on Cassidy.

Immediately after hearing his words, Cassidy’s self-awareness dissolved away as she slipped off into a trance.


	16. Cristiãn

“Welcome back,” David’s escort greeted Cassidy from her seat by the door.

Cassidy was startled by the welcome coming from behind. Her mind was in the middle of restoring clarity to her thoughts. She spun around to see the woman that David had escorted into the main room of the club seated on a sofa next to a door. She instantly realized that the room around her had changed, but she was still standing as she had been before the change. As she continued to clear her thoughts, she became aware that she was in David’s office.

“How did I get here?” Cassidy demanded with a startled expression.

“You walked,” the woman answered as though stating the obvious.

Cassidy thought about that answer for a moment and then began moving toward the door.

“Don’t,” the woman instructed sharply with a raised hand.

Cassidy stopped immediately after her first step. She froze, startled by the woman’s sharp command and hand movement. The woman continued to advise her.

“I am much stronger than you,” she said pleasantly. “You can’t overpower me.”

Because the woman was about two inches shorter and just as thin as she, Cassidy could think of only one possibility that validated that declaration, and it frightened her. The idea that there was a supernatural element to the Greenbelt Nine murders was now being given serious weight in her thinking. She tried to shake the thought off as nonsense but could think of nothing more reasonable to replace her conclusion. Shortly into her internal debate, she decided to question the woman on it.

“What are you?”

“I am what you would call a vampire,” the woman answered calmly and without hesitation.

Cassidy caught her breath and took a step back. The woman reacted to Cassidy’s surprise with a smile and then continued to explain.

“Personally, I dislike that name or any name that refers to us as some kind of creature. I prefer to be called an immortal. I think it humanizes us while being technically accurate.”

“You came out of that cave in Romania?” Cassidy questioned with a look of shock.

“Yes,” the woman responded with a word.

“And you killed those men?” Cassidy questioned from behind a look of terror.

“We couldn’t stop ourselves,” she explained with an air of indifference.

“What the hell does that mean?” Cassidy yelled with fear and amazement on her face.

David’s escort was completely unfazed by her outburst or expression. She waited to reply while Cassidy took a couple of deep breaths.

“Imagine being thirsty, so thirsty that you could drink water from a muddy puddle,” the woman explained in casual speech. “And then multiply that by a thousand.”

The woman took a long pause to give weight to her words, and then she continued.

“Our bodies do not die easily. We were trapped in that cave for twelve-hundred years. To say we were thirsty is an extreme understatement.”

Cassidy took in her explanation with a look of incredulity. Despite all the evidence, and this confession, she was still having trouble accepting that the woman in front of her was a vampire. She did not look the way she thought a vampire should look. In every way, she looked no different than anyone else. Her complexion even held a tan. At that moment, her greatest fear was that she was being played for a fool.

“How can you be a vampire?” Cassidy challenged. “Sunlight is supposed to kill vampires.”

The woman suppressed a laugh.

“You know your vampire movies,” the woman said with a large smile. “But you shouldn’t believe everything you see on television.”

“Up until now, I didn’t believe in vampires,” Cassidy argued back. “I’m still not sure of that. But you’re telling me that’s what you are. Which is it?”

“Your books and movies have a distorted image of us,” the woman began pleasantly. “Sunlight is bad for us, that’s true. And given enough time it can kill us, but we don’t burst into flames like they do in the movies.”

Cassidy could do nothing more than watch this woman with a look of astonishment as she continued to explain with an almost cheerful expression.

“It’s more of a gradual deterioration,” she continued as pleasantly as if she were relating a humorous story. “On a hot sunny day, we can survive in the sun for three to six, hours. The length of time is determined by the temperature—and how satiated we are at the start.”

She paused with a shrug and a smile before continuing with her talk.

“It’s a terrible way to die. I think I would prefer to burn up quickly. I once saw an immortal that came close to dying that way. He looked nothing like himself when he came out of the sun. They say it starts with a sudden appearance of age marks and discoloration. The skin dries up and begins to wrinkle. I’m told it can start to become visible after ten or fifteen minutes in direct sunlight. About an hour later, the blotching starts. Blistering begins about an hour and a half after that. That continues for about another hour or two and then the atrophy starts. At that point, we’re all but sapped of strength. Moving just hastens our demise. If there is no shelter or sustenance nearby, we just lay there and rot to death. It’s an ugly way to go, don’t you think?”

Her cheerfully told story about dying from direct sunlight had Cassidy disbelieving again. It all sounded too incredible to be true. By the end of her narration, Cassidy was convinced that she was being deceived.

“This is all just some elaborate hoax,” Cassidy disputed with a shake of her head. “I don’t know who you are, but you’re no vampire.”

“Nadja,” the woman said with a nod and a smile. “And I am a vampire, Detective Tremaine.”

Cassidy continued to display a look of disbelief as she shook her head for a couple of seconds.

“So, you’re trying to tell me that you drink human blood?” Cassidy questioned with an I don’t believe you look.

“Blood is blood,” Nadja replied with a shrug. “We’ll drink the blood of most mammals and eat the flesh as well if the blood doesn’t quench our appetite.”

“Then why eat humans?” Cassidy challenged with a stunned look.

Nadja took a moment to take in Cassidy’s expression with a hint of a smile. Then she responded to her inquiry as though speaking the obvious.

“Because you smell like food.”

“This is ridiculous,” Cassidy argued with herself. “Why eat a human when you can eat a cow or pig or anything else?”

“Because they’re dirty,” Nadja explained. “They’re covered with fur and fleas and mud. Why would I want to bite into something like that? Mortals are packaged meat. You smell good. You taste good, and you look good. For immortals, humans are a delicacy.”

“Is that what the nine bodies in the Greenbelt were, a delicacy?” Cassidy questioned with a scowl.

“Absolutely,” Nadja answered in a word.

The more Cassidy heard the more she found it too incredible to believe. She took a step back, turned her eyes to the floor and shook her head in disbelief. As she digested all she just heard, she contemplated an attempt to escape. She suddenly raced for the door. Nadja rose to stop her. A step before reaching the door, Cassidy turned her attention to Nadja and extended a stiff arm in an attempt to use her momentum to knock her off balance. Nadja brushed her arm aside, grabbed her by the neck and wrist, lifted her off the floor, walked her to the other side of the room and laid her down across the top of David’s desk. After a brief struggle, Cassidy conceded to Nadja’s superior strength and went limp. She looked at Nadja with surprise and fear on her face. Nadja released her and returned to her seat on the sofa. Cassidy got back onto her feet and instinctively brought a hand up to her neck checking for damage. But she felt only slightly the worse for wear because of the manhandling.

“I told you,” Nadja explained again. “We are very strong. Far more so than you mortals. Your strength is limited to your muscle density. Our strength is based on muscle density and blood. We’re like rocket ships. The more blood we burn at any given moment the more powerful we are. The only drawback is that we have a limited supply of blood. When we exhaust our supply, we are as helpless as a baby.”

Cassidy’s effort to disbelieve the claim that they were vampires took a serious hit when Nadja picked her up with one arm. She had no explanation for how this woman overpowered her so easily. She could not help but dismiss her thoughts of being played for a fool and then asked the question that she dared not ask before.

“How are you possible?” Cassidy asked as she moved to sit on the side of the desk.

“Your knowledge of immortals are perversions of lessons that vampire hunters taught to their apprentices and to villagers. Over the centuries, mortals have demonized us. You have labeled us as servants of the devil. But these claims are not true. We are much like you.”

“What perversions?” Cassidy asked in awe.

Nadja chuckled at her question before responding.

“Perversions like our image can’t be seen in a mirror,” Nadja reported while restraining a laugh.

“So, you can be seen in a mirror?” Cassidy questioned hopefully.

“Of course, we can,” Nadja answered with a look of incredulity. “We just don’t like mirrors or anything that reflects light. Vampire hunters taught their apprentices to take notice of anyone who avoided things that reflected light.”

“How about wooden stakes?” Cassidy asked with a look of dismay.

“Twelve-hundred years ago, metal utensils were very expensive,” Nadja explained with a toss of her hand. “Vampire hunters used wooden stakes to augment the weaponry they used to kill us.”

“I don’t understand,” Cassidy contested with a slight shake of her head.

Nadja displayed no reluctance in clarifying further.

“When we’re impaled through the heart while asleep, we cannot wake up. The vampire hunters knew that. When they came across a location where several vampires were known to take their rest, it was common for the hunters to drive wooden stakes through our hearts while we slept. That way they could keep their knives and swords with them while they searched for more of us. That was the quickest and quietest way to incapacitate us.”

Again, Cassidy shook her head with confusion.

“I would think pounding a stake through someone’s heart would make enough noise to wake someone up.”

“To say that we sleep like the dead is not an overstatement.” Nadja explained. “When sleeping, our senses are mostly disconnected. We are very vulnerable when we’re asleep. Even when we do hear something it takes us several minutes to rouse to it.”

Cassidy was still confused. She wondered why they did not die when something was driven through their hearts. A second later, she remembered that a vampire’s heart did not beat. That memory confused her even more.

“But what is a stake through the heart doing, if it’s not killing you?” Cassidy asked with a ruffled brow.

Nadja continued to smile at Cassidy’s confused expression.

“Contrary to your vampire movies, our hearts do beat. Blood does flow through our veins. But the pace of our heartbeat is dictated by how active we are at any given moment. When we are asleep our hearts beat about once every twenty minutes, and we do not breathe at all. Therefore, humans began to think of us as being dead, because we sleep like the dead. When a stake or any object is impaled through our hearts, we lose the ability to pump blood. When we’re awake, we can simply take the stake out and our body quickly heals the wound. But when we’re asleep we can’t take it—out, and the absence of blood flow prevents us from waking up.”

Cassidy was astonished by her explanation. Once again, she struggled with the implausibility of what she was hearing, but her thoughts continued to fall short of a reasonable alternative. She found it hard to assimilate it all.

“And the rule about vampires not being able to enter a house if they’re not invited?” Cassidy inquired, eager to hear the answer.

“Just another stupid mortal myth,” Nadja answered with a smile.

“So, you can enter a house without an invite?” Cassidy waited for confirmation.

“Of course, we can,” Nadja returned.

“Then why did they say that?” Cassidy asked with hunger in her voice.

“The rule is, never invite a vampire into your house,” Nadja answered with a dismissive wave of her hand. 

Cassidy interpreted the wave off as an indicator that there was more to her answer. 

“Why?”

“Our ability to mentally control mortal’s is at its greatest in enclosed spaces,” Nadja explained with a little reluctance.

“Why is that?” Cassidy asked. “What makes you so powerful in enclosed spaces?”

“Pheromones,” Nadja answered. “Our pheromones are intoxicating to mortals. In the ninth century we were not aware that pheromones even existed, we thought it was all just magic. We now know that our pheromones can affect a chemically induced trance that makes mortals highly susceptible to suggestion and that they can be tailored to create and amplify sensations, feelings, moods and emotions with a mere thought. And with a little concentrated effort, we can radiate out these pheromones in quantities ranging from a whiff to stifling.”

A thought began to germinate in Cassidy’s mind and grew stronger the longer she considered it. She turned the thought over and over until she was incensed with the idea and finally exploded with it.

“Is that what he did to me? David or Christian or whatever the hell his name is?”

“Cristiãn,” Nadja corrected.

“I don’t care,” Cassidy railed back at her. “Did he use his pheromones to seduce me?”

“I don’t know,” Nadja responded coolly. “Would he need to?”

Cassidy shortly concluded that David did seduce her with his pheromones, and a rage swelled up within her with the thinking.

“So, is this just kicks for the two of you? This is how you and your boyfriend have a good time?”

“Me and my mate enjoy classical, rock and country music, movies of all types and soccer,” Nadja countered with an edge in her tone.

“Your mate?” Cassidy questioned with fury.

Nadja made no reply. She returned Cassidy’s gaze with a scowl on her face. This went on for a few seconds, and then Cassidy broke the silence between them.

“So, is murdering people just an instinctive act? No thought, no emotion, we’re just food to be consumed,” Cassidy spat out with a look of disgust.

“When I kill, emotion is always involved,” Nadja defended with a flare of anger.

In the face of her reaction, Cassidy backed away from their exchange and began to speak with less venom in her tone.

“And what about your mate, Cristiãn? When he kills, is there anger involved, or is it just sport for him?”

“We are no different than you,” Nadja countered defensively.

“You’re nothing like us,” Cassidy seethed. “You manipulate us without any regard for the life that you’re destroying. And that bastard, Cristiãn, is the worst of all of you. He likes to play with people’s lives before he kills them. As far as I’m concerned, you’re all murdering psychopaths.”

“You don’t know anything about us, Detective Tremaine,” Nadja countered with a hint of ferocity. “You don’t know what we’re about. You don’t even know why you’re still breathing.”

Nadja took a heaving deep breath and paused to give weight to her words, then she lashed out again with a little more rancor in her voice.

“And you should speak better of my brother when you talk to me.”

Cassidy was taken aback and caught her breath with the revelation that David was her brother. Startled, she paused and took on a softer expression while considering Nadja’s statement.

“Your brother?”

“Yes, my brother—Cristiãn is not my mate, and you should know that he’s the only friend you’ve got here.”

“Friend!” Cassidy challenged with shock in her voice “He—he brainwashed me with those pheromones.”

“He kept you near him to keep you alive,” Nadja corrected loudly.

“How was attacking me inside that warehouse keeping me alive?” Cassidy retorted with fury.

“My brother didn’t attack you,” Nadja countered with a flash of temper. 

“I was there,” Cassidy argued angrily. “I heard someone call out his name.”

“You-stupid-mortal. What you heard was a warning call that my brother was coming,” Nadja explained with irritation in her tone. “He saved your life. And that wasn’t the first time.”

Cassidy could not deny the possibility of the scenario that Nadja had just suggested. She took a long moment to replay the events that transpired in the warehouse. As she did, Nadja noticed her changing demeanor.

“What are you doing here?” Cassidy asked after a long moment of thought. “Why did you all come to The Cavern today?”

“We’re having an—inquisition,” Nadja hesitantly admitted.

“An inquisition?” Cassidy questioned.

“Yes, a vampire inquisition,” Nadja returned with confidence this time. “We’re looking for a killer.”

“The Greenbelt Nine,” Cassidy blurted out with a sudden awareness.

“Precisely,” Nadja confirmed with a nod.

“You don’t know who killed those people?” Cassidy questioned with a surprise.

Nadja noted that Cassidy had quickly grasped the situation.

“We want to know the answer to that question just as much as you do.”

“I don’t understand,” Cassidy stated with a puzzled expression. “Why wouldn’t you know? Why wouldn’t they tell you?”

“Because it’s against the rules,” Nadja sternly explained.

“You have rules against killing?” Cassidy questioned.

Nadja took a moment to restrain herself from laughing at Cassidy’s surprised expression.

“Mortals—yes.”

“Why would…,” Cassidy started to question the reason for this rule and then stopped herself. “I don’t understand this. I don’t understand any of it.”

“No, you wouldn’t, would you?” Nadja said shaking her head in dismay. “This doesn’t fit inside your comic book version of vampires.”

Cassidy was more than a little vexed by her response and tone.

“Explain it to me.”

Nadja paused for a moment to consider Cassidy’s request.

“By the year 817, the vampire hunters had hounded us to near extinction. As far as I knew at that time, there were only twenty-seven of us left. We lived in a town near the Carpathian Mountains. The mortals there gave us safe-haven provided we did not kill anyone they knew and for the occasional odd jobs that only we could do.”

“They knew what you were, and they let you live among them?”

“That was not an uncommon arrangement back then. Within a region of Dacia, vampires were known denizens of the area. Going back nearly a thousand years, there had to have been two, maybe three hundred vampires that existed there at one time or another. We all started out as someone’s daughter, son, sister, brother, friend or neighbor. Life was very different then. There was no anonymity. Once you were turned, it became common knowledge to everyone who knew you. And on top of that, we were handy to have around. Nearby warlords were reluctant to expand into an area that was a Strigoi sanctuary for fear of evoking our wrath.”

“So, you killed, you just didn’t kill your neighbors?”

“Uh—not for the most part. Why would we? Like I said, they were family and friends, at least in the beginning. We could eat meat, but we preferred blood—straight from the vein of a living mammal. Farm animals were sufficient, but we would rarely bite one—disgusting. We would just bleed them a little bit and drink it from a cup. And we weren’t above siphoning a little blood from a human on rare occasions.”

“Rare occasions…?” Cassidy questioned with a suspicious look.

“Every once in a great while, one of us would siphon a little too much blood from someone,” Nadja explained with a toss of her hands. “Needless to say, that did not go over well in the community. And then there was the occasional rogue vampire who found it difficult to live within the rules. I suspect killing humans gave them some kind of thrill.”

“So, when the humans decided they had enough they started killing you,” Cassidy concluded.

“Oh, the mortals were killing us from the beginning,” Nadja corrected. “Hate or jealousy was the usual motive, but it was fear of us that turned it into a widespread practice. By the ninth century killing vampires was a skill honed by hundreds of years of practice. Back then it was a well-known fact that it was best to kill a vampire while we slept. So, we feared to go to sleep.”

Nadja added that last part with a hint of anger in her voice.

“Eventually, all vampires overstayed their welcome,” she continued a moment later. “Mortal family and friends—died, and the occasional killing of your kind by a vampire continued after their passing. On the whole, villagers didn’t care for us turning a favorite son or daughter into another Strigoi. And there were the many—many failed attempts at that. When I say failed, I mean the mortal died. Mortals always grow intolerant of our existence.”

“Why did mortals die when you tried to turn them?” Cassidy asked with a confused frown.

“Much of what we did back then was trial and error,” Nadja explained with indifference.

Cassidy was made more curious by that answer.

“Is it hard to turn a human into a vampire?”

“No,” Nadja returned with a shrug. “We just didn’t know then what we know now. Back then, it was all magic—a gift from the gods or a curse from demons. Back then, we would fatally wound a mortal, feed them some of our blood and then recite incantations and prayers to different deities as we watched them die. If they revived within four to five hours, it worked. Now we know that it’s important to introduce our blood into the body very shortly before or after the moment of their deaths.”

“Death—you have to kill a human to turn one into what you are?” Cassidy asked with a stunned expression.

“Oh yes. Dying is part of the process,” Nadja replied quickly.

Once again, Cassidy was not satisfied.

“Why is that?”

Nadja took note of Cassidy’s need for a precise explanation and set about providing one.

“Vampirism is a virus, but it’s a very weak virus. The human immune systems can fight it off with ease. But when the body dies, the immune system shuts down. The vampire virus has free reign after that. When that happens, the human body comes under new management. The critical part in the turn is in the moment of the viral introduction. If you introduce the virus too soon, the immune system kills it. If you introduce it too late, the degradation to the brain and nervous system progresses too far for the virus to reactivate them.”

Nadja paused to allow that explanation to sink in before continuing with a barely contained grin.

“If we only knew then what we know now.”

“What would have been different?” Cassidy asked.

“There would have been thousands of us. Maybe even tens of thousands. We would have taken over. It’s not like we can have children.

“And why can’t you have children?” Cassidy quickly asked.

Once again Nadja noticed Cassidy’s elevated interest and coolly set off to indulge it.

“Our vampire bodies treat any alterations to our physiology as something to be corrected—no pregnancies. Because of this limitation, our numbers are determined by how many mortals we turn into vampires and by how many of us are killed by mortals. Over the 100 years prior to our mishap with the cave, the killing of vampires became a widely accepted practice. What made it even worse was that it was a practice incited by religious leaders. We were demonized and characterized as sub-human monsters. They killed us on sight. They needed no more justification than the fact that we were Strigoi—criminal offenses were optional.”

Cassidy stared into the space as she pondered all she had just heard, then she looked up with another question in mind.

“How did you end up in that cave?”

“Vampire hunters,” Nadja said. “A hundred or more, raided the farming town where we were living—hiding. Nineteen of us made it to the cave and hid beneath the shelter of its darkness. The hunters feared to follow us there, so they brought down the mountainside and buried us alive.”

Nadja paused to smile while she reminisced about something, then continued her story.

“A whole new world grew up around us while we slept in that hole in the ground. Imagine our delight when we learned that the humans of this time did not believe we ever existed. And it wasn’t just that. A thousand years ago, people were born into their station in life. You could never be any more than what fate decreed you to be. But in this time, you are who you become. It was like we were given a second chance. We no longer had to hide because everyone believed we were myths—works of fiction. We were free to live in a world where wealth and comfort were simply a matter of money, and we’re very good at making money. Why would we risk exposing ourselves? Why would we risk starting a new vampire purge?”

Nadja allowed Cassidy time to ruminate on her last two questions.

“We live by a strict set of rules. The survival of us all depend upon everyone adhering to the rules. We have no prisons. We don’t issue fines or corporeal punishment. The penalty for breaking one of our rules is death. Whoever killed those humans is hiding from us every bit as much as he, she or they are hiding from you.”

Cassidy processed all that she had heard into a clear understanding of who these immortals were. For the first time since she began to consider that these individuals were vampires, she was conflicted about what to do about them. They had suddenly become less monstrous. Within seconds, her disgust for David faded away and a new thought came to her.

“Who was Constance Ofella?”

Nadja was briefly surprised. That was not a name or a question she was expecting to hear coming from Cassidy. 

“Constantia Ofella was a girl from our childhood—mine and Cristiãn’s. She and Cristiãn became very attached when we were young. Cristiãn grew to love her—very much—and she him, I believe. But we were poor farmers back then—tenants of a wealthy lord. The lord had a son, and he took a fancy to Constantia. By reputation, the son was known to be an… unpleasant person. Despite that, Constantia’s father betrothed her to the son of the landlord, and she had no choice but to respect his wishes. The marriage separated Cristiãn and Constantia from each other. Cristiãn was not even allowed to speak of her in affectionate terms or of the feelings they once had and continued to share. To do so could have cost him his life. She was Cristiãn’s one and only love.”

Cassidy noticed that Nadja had brought the story to a close, but she was not yet satisfied and pushed for more.

“What happened to her?”

Nadja hesitated to reply, but did so, somberly.

“Four years later, Constantia took her life to escape her marriage.”

Cassidy was dismayed by her answer and pondered over it for nearly a minute. Nadja looked on without speaking a word.

“When… how did he become a vampire,” Cassidy hesitantly asked, breaking the silence.

Nadja gave the question little thought as she brightened with anticipation of her response.

“About a year before Constantia’s death, I fell in love with a vampire. It was deemed improper for a mortal and a vampire to wed. Mortals forbade it because such a union produced no children. Immortals frowned upon it because they were doomed to outlive such a mate. But Petru and I were very much in love, and as it tended to happen in such cases, he turned me into a vampire. It took me many months of pleading to overcome his resistance. He feared he might kill me. But I threatened to kill myself if he did not try. I was by then in my twenty-seventh year of life. Back then, that made me a spinster. Six years had passed since Constantia’s death. Cristiãn was a wreck by that time. His grief transformed him into a wine-soaked beggar. He had nothing: no farm, no money, no future. But he was my brother, my twin, and I loved him then as I do now. So, to save him from himself, I had Petru turn him into a vampire.”

“Why didn’t you do it?” Cassidy asked with a confused expression.

“When a vampire turns a mortal, a bond is formed between them” Nadja explained earnestly. “Between two heterosexual members of the same sex this bond makes them siblings of a sort. In each other’s company, they have a kind of telepathic connection. We know now that it is because we are receptive to each other’s pheromones. It enables vampires with this connection to communicate basic feelings and ideas. That is the only time a vampire is affected by the pheromones of another vampire. But the bond is even more pronounced when it is made between heterosexuals of the opposite sex. The two vampires tend to become lovers.”

Nadja paused for a moment to allow that thought to sink in, then continued with enthusiasm.

“Our pheromones act as an aphrodisiac that fuels the passion between us. We feed off each other’s—arousal. It’s extremely—exhilarating. We never tire of each other’s affection. Quite the contrary, we become addicted to it. Generally, vampires mate for life, and we are careful to avoid making more than one mate. That usually leads to someone getting killed. So, you can see how inappropriate it would have been for me to turn my own brother.”

Cassidy immediately understood and backed away from any further inquiry on the subject. Her thoughts turned to something she remembered Nadja saying near the beginning of their conversation. The comment resonated in her mind. There were other remarks that Nadja made that took precedence, but they had since been answered. Her next inquiry grew in importance because it was the only question she had at the moment.

“What did you mean when you said it wasn’t the first time that David—Cristiãn saved my life?”

“Last Thursday,” Nadja began as though trying to spur her memory, “when you left The Cavern and went to Radu and Alexandra’s late-night party.”

Cassidy was instantly confused. She had no memory of going to a party after leaving The Cavern that night. Her immediate thought was that Nadja was mistaken or misinformed, but she was hesitant to contradict her.

“You don’t remember this?” Nadja smiled and advised with a questioning tone. “Your memories are incomplete, Detective Tremaine. Allow me to help you with that.” 

Nadja went still in her seat as she held her stare at Cassidy and said nothing. Cassidy became confused by Nadja’s changed demeanor, but then shortly, her mind slipped off into a trance.


	17. Memories

_The Real-Cassidy found herself wandering through a dream of events that felt familiar to her. At that moment, she did not know what was real and what was not. The illusion that she was floating through had become the whole of her existence. The real-world around her was gone. Her conversation with Nadja had ceased to exist. Her meeting with Lucian in The Cavern was the first memory to play out in her mind._

_“Detective Tremaine, how did you find us?” Lucian questioned with a careful pronunciation of each word._

_“Find—you, find?”_

_The Real-Cassidy could feel how vague the Dream-Cassidy’s response was, but she did not understand why her brain was functioning that way. The Dream-Cassidy’s mind felt sluggish, as though functioning in a stupor. Despite her awareness of the Dream-Cassidy’s condition, the Real-Cassidy felt sober and wide awake. The Real-Cassidy noted that the man speaking to the Dream-Cassidy did not seem to be surprised by her incoherent response._

_“How did you know we were here?” Lucian asked again in a clear and unhurried voice._

_The Real-Cassidy could feel that she had a better understanding of the question as she answered with, “I followed.”_

_She noticed that Lucian immediately accepted her answer. She thought his unconditional acceptance seemed strange. Then she became aware that the Dream-Cassidy was unable to say anything other than the truth at that moment._

_“So much for repressing her obsession with this investigation,” Stefan uttered with distaste._

_“She is tenacious of mind,” Lucian agreed._

_“She’s dangerous,” Stefan spat._

_“Detective Tremaine, who knows that you are here?”_

_The Dream-Cassidy quickly processed Lucian’s question despite her dazed condition._

_“Nina,” she answered._

_“Does anyone else know that you are here?” Lucian immediately queried back._

_“No.”_

_“Is Nina expecting you to call?” Lucian asked._

_“I—ah, Nina?”_

_A dazed Dream-Cassidy stammered out this comeback in place of an answer. The Real-Cassidy noted that her dream-self was having trouble with the idea that she should know what Nina was expecting. She thought it likely that Nina would be anticipating a call, but that was something she did not feel comfortable giving a yes or no answer to. Shortly, the Real-Cassidy saw Lucian grow annoyed with Dream-Cassidy’s fumbling response._

_“Yes. Is Nina waiting for your call?” Lucian asked again with impatience._

_“Yes,” Cassidy answered, looking unsure of her answer._

_“When is she expecting you to call?” Lucian continued questioning her._

_The Real-Cassidy was aware that there was no answer to that question. Neither versions of her had any idea when or if Nina would be expecting a call from her. She could feel her dream-mind struggling to find an answer, but the Real-Cassidy did not understand why the question was such a problem. In her mind, the answer to the question was, I don’t know._

_“Will Nina send someone to look for you?” Lucian asked her in a clear tone of voice._

_“No,” Cassidy answered with a dazed expression._

_The Real-Cassidy watched as Lucian wasted no time going to his next question._

_“Detective Tremaine, approximately how long will it be before someone begin to miss you?”_

_“4 o’clock,” Cassidy responded without thought. “My neighbor will miss me if I don’t arrive to pick up my kids.”_

_Once again, the Real-Cassidy noted that Lucian accepted the answer without question._

_“We should deal with this,” Stefan said decisively._

_“Blank her, and send her on her way,” David suggested quickly._

_“We can’t do that,” Christine Meyer insisted sharply. “She knows too much.”_

_“Nothing that she can prove,” David argued back._

_“It’s enough for her to start to believe it,” Evan Pritchard spoke in support of Christine Meyer. “We can’t have her pointing a finger at us.”_

_“Razvan is right,” Stefan quickly added. “Trying to throw her off the scent has failed. We need to deal with this while we have time.”_

_It was clear to the Real-Cassidy that the last speaker’s comments were the most popular consensus. She watched as most within the room nodded their agreement._

_“I will drink her blood this time,” David asserted sternly. “She will remember nothing.”_

_“It’s too late for that, Cristiãn.” Brooke Chapman challenged sympathetically. “Her mind is already cluttered with incongruities about us.”_

_“I will manage it,” David instantly insisted._

_“That’s too dangerous, Cristiãn,” Ronald Hollis disputed._

_“It’s my call,” David rifled back with temper._

_“It’s our risk,” Brooke Chapman countered without hesitation._

_The Real-Cassidy watched as David gave Brooke Chapman a stunned look. She watched as his mind seemed to be in search of a counter argument. Shortly, his thoughts were interrupted by another voice._

_“We will deal with this when the others arrive,” Lucian directed softly._

_There was no challenge to Lucian’s words. A prolonged silence followed. Then Nadja began to speak pleasantly to all present._

_“Well, let’s not keep her like this. Let me take her into Cristiãn’s office while we wait.”_

_There was a long moment of awkward glances after Nadja’s suggestion. David looked to his escort. She looked to Lucian. He looked back to her and then to Stefan. Stefan looked to her and then to David. The others in the room looked back and forth between the four of them._

_“Yes, please do,” Lucian agreed with a smile and a nod._

_Nadja got up from her chair with a hand from David. She casually walked over to Cassidy and gently took her hand into hers. The Real-Cassidy felt her dream-self comply without resistance. She could see Nadja, but the Dream-Cassidy had no awareness that she was standing next to her._

_“Come with me,” Nadja softly spoke into Cassidy’s ear._

_After speaking those words, Nadja led Dream-Cassidy from the main room and through the hallway entrance. She followed alongside Nadja with only the slightest urging to keep her in motion. They had just reached the door to David’s office when the room suddenly dissolved away, and a new memory began to materialize in its place for the Real-Cassidy._

_~~~~~line break~~~~~_

_The Real-Cassidy suddenly found herself in David’s bedroom, lying in his bed. The transition felt natural to her despite thinking she should be in shock. She shortly became aware of the fact that she was lying naked under the covers. Her gaze was fixed up at an angle and toward the foot of the bed. She thought to move, to sit up and look around the room, but her body would not respond. Suddenly, the image of David’s face appeared at the edge of her vision, and then she heard his voice speaking softly into her ear._

_“When you awaken, the things you heard and saw inside the warehouse will begin to feel like a distant memory. You will forget about the woman’s voice that you heard. You won’t remember how tall or strong the man was that attacked you. The whole event will be a faint memory. Do you understand?”_

_“Warehouse?”_

_The Real-Cassidy understood what David was saying, but the Dream-Cassidy could not stop herself from questioning the word warehouse. That event was primarily fixed in her mind as an address._

_“Last Friday,” David began again in a slow and soft speech. “You went to a warehouse in Brooklyn, do you remember that?”_

_“The fire?” The Real-Cassidy heard herself question back._

_“Yes, at the warehouse in Brooklyn,” David softly corrected. “It caught fire. Do you remember that?”_

_“Yes, the warehouse. I remember,” The Real-Cassidy heard herself say without reservation._

_“When you awaken, all that you heard and saw in that warehouse will feel like a distant memory. Your interest in this case will be gone, and you will stop thinking about vampires as suspects. Do you understand?”_

_“Yes,” Cassidy responded._

_“You will forget about the woman’s voice that you heard. Do you understand?”_

_“Yes,” Cassidy answered._

_“You will not remember how tall or strong the man was that attacked you,” David asserted in a quiet voice. “The whole event will feel like something that happened many months-ago. Do you understand?”_

_“Yes,” Cassidy replied without hesitation._

_A brief silence followed. The Real-Cassidy watched as David examined her face as though trying to memorize it._

_“Go to sleep. When you wake up, you will not remember this conversation.”_

_After hearing those words, The Real-Cassidy felt herself slip away into slumber. Shortly, she reopened her eyes to find she was no longer inside David’s bedroom._

_~~~~~line break~~~~~_

_The interior of The Cavern appeared out of a slowly dissipating haze. Everything about the location felt familiar to the Real-Cassidy. It felt like a prolonged déjà vu event. The sounds, the smells and the images all rekindled a sensation of an event that she could not attach to a time or day. She had a memory of saying that she wanted to meet the booth three regulars. She remembered that she had decided to take their measure. She was standing in the main room of The Cavern and watching the booth three regulars. Suddenly, she recalled asking a question._

_“Can you introduce me?”_

_“You want to meet them?” David questioned back._

_“Yes, I want to meet them,” Cassidy answered succinctly._

_The Real-Cassidy noticed that David paused._

_“Okay, but I warn you, they’re conversation can be a little—lewd.”_

_The Real-Cassidy could feel her dream-self’s growing determination to meet them, and then she remembered her reply._

_“I can deal with lewd.”_

_She saw David smile before responding._

_“How should I reference you?”_

_“Tell them I’m a friend,” The Real-Cassidy recalled herself saying just as she had said it in the dream. “We met three years ago when I vacationed in England.”_

_She recalled David’s response as he said it._

_“Were we romantically involved?”_

_The Real-Cassidy could feel her dream-self give David a squint just before she answered._

_“A summer fling—we separated as friends, and we’re renewing our friendship.”_

_“Our friendship?”_

_She heard David’s question and recalled it with a feeling of déjà vu. As soon as she heard his response, she felt a reply coming from her dream-self._

_“We’re taking it slow. Can we do this?”_

_In this dream that felt like a memory, the Real-Cassidy could feel herself following David as they walked toward the booth three regulars. She saw them examine her as they approached._

_“David, have you come to join us?” Alexandra Hays spoke first._

_Somehow the Real-Cassidy knew that she would speak first. She then waited on David’s response as though watching a movie she had seen several times before._

_“Hi. I’m just here to make sure that you’re enjoying yourselves.”_

_“We are. Who’s your friend?”_

_That question was asked by Ryan Sandoval. The Real-Cassidy knew the speaker in the same way that she anticipated his inquiry._

_“This is Cassidy Tremaine,” Cassidy heard David introduce her as he stepped aside. “She’s an acquaintance from my past.”_

_As the Real-Cassidy thought to respond to David’s introduction, the Dream-Cassidy did._

_“Hello.”_

_The Real-Cassidy was aware that Evan Pritchard was going to speak next._

_“A past love?”_

_Giggles erupted from the women and smiles from the men. She listened as David responded to the suggestion._

_“Our first meeting was too brief for that, but I have hope for the future.”_

_“Oh, I have no doubt of that,” Evan Pritchard returned with a smile._

_There were more giggles and laughs._

_“I think Ms. Tremaine may have been in here a couple of weeks back.”_

_Ryan Sandoval spoke those words. Alexandra Hays bobbed her head in excited agreement with his observation. For the Real-Cassidy, everything about their conversation was expected. Their meeting was one long familiar event. Shortly, her response popped into her head, and the Dream-Cassidy spoke it._

_“Yes, I was. I dropped in to say hello to David.”_

_“I told you,” Alexandra Hays bragged in response._

_“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ms. Tremaine.” Ryan Sandoval acknowledged with a smile. “Won’t you join us?”_

_The Real-Cassidy knew his invite was coming. She knew that her dream-self would eventually acquiesce. She could feel where the conversation was going, and she watched as Dream-Cassidy feigned a reluctance to do so. Despite her reluctant response, the booth three regulars, overrode her with simultaneous assurances that she would not be an intrusion. They sidled over to make room at the end of the booth seat. Dream-Cassidy happily agreed to their invitation and sat down._

_Shortly after she sat down, the group began introducing themselves. The Real-Cassidy knew their names, including the four guests. She greeted each one with a smile. Their greetings to her were full of pleasantry and excitement. Afterward, they immediately dove into small talk about her. This conversation lasted for several minutes before Ronald Hollis broached the subject of her plans for the remainder of the evening._

_“So, how late do you plan to stay out, Cassidy?”_

_The Real-Cassidy could feel that Dream-Cassidy was eager to entertain the question but was reluctant to show it._

_“I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.”_

_She listened as Ronald Hollis made the suggestion that she was expecting._

_“You should join us. We always have a little get-together when we leave here.”_

_“Oh yes, you must come,” Alexandra Hays urged to no surprise of the Real-Cassidy._

_Cassidy listened as Christine Meyer, Brooke Chapman, Ryan Sandoval and Evan Pritchard added their encouragement._

_“Our get-togethers are great fun, aren’t they, Barbara?”_

_Cassidy watched as Christine Meyer directed her question to one of their female guests._

_“Yes, they’re the best,” she agreed with a suggestive smile._

_Cassidy continued to watch as her dream-self agreed to be a part of their get-together. She looked through the eyes of her dream-self as though she were a passenger inside of her own body. She followed these events as both participant and spectator. She watched herself drive to the condominium that held the apartment that Ryan and Alexandra shared. She recalled being the first to arrive at the apartment behind the owners. She could feel herself going through the doorway to the residence with a pleasant smile on her face. She began to foresee events an instant before they occurred._

_Everything inside the residence looked familiar to The Real-Cassidy. The colors, the feel, the smell of the interior was just as she expected. She knew the floor plan as though by instinct. The furniture looked the way she expected it to look, and each piece was exactly where she expected them to be. Almost immediately, Alexandra took her arm-in-arm and delightedly toured her through the expensively adorned condo. It all felt like a dream sequence in a movie that she had participated in many years ago. Shortly, she began to hear the familiar laughs and giggles of the other six attendees as they entered the apartment. She did not know why their laughs were familiar or how she knew that they belong solely to them, but she did._

_When Alexandra led her back into the living-room, she saw that the remaining members of the booth three regulars were comfortably seated and situated about the room. There was no music playing or drinks being consumed. The four guests of the regulars, Barbara Markowitz, Elliot Copeland, Cora Peterson and Kenneth Dunn, were coupled in two locations along the edge of the room. They whispered and giggled as they watched Cassidy and Alexandra enter the room. The remaining five regulars were seated in and about the center of the room. Christine and Evan occupied one of the two sofas that faced each other. They were snuggled together as they whispered and giggled while watching Cassidy enter the room. Ronald was seated in a lounge chair, and Brooke was seated in his lap. They were also affectionately engaged in whispers and giggles as Cassidy walked in. Ryan was standing beside the sofa where Christine and Evan were seated. The sofa opposite them was unoccupied._

_“Have a seat,” Alexandra proffered Cassidy with a gesture toward the empty sofa._

_The Real-Cassidy could feel the distrust and worry within her dream-self with regards to this odd assembly. Despite her feelings of distrust, she heard herself thank Alexandra as she walked over and took a seat on the vacant sofa. As she took the seat, she noticed that Alexandra took a seat on the opposite sofa and Ryan promptly sat next to her, sidling in for a cuddle._

_“You have a very attractive home,” Cassidy said to Alexandra and Ryan while smiling pleasantly._

_The Real-Cassidy could feel her dream-self scheming to focus the conversation on them. She wanted to encourage them to talk about themselves. She wanted them to reveal their secrets through idle conversation or by a direct proposal to include her in them._

_“Thank you,” Alexandra returned with a wide smile that was followed by a mischievous laugh._

_Cassidy noticed that the other booth three regulars were equally amused about something that only they seemed to be in on. Even their other four guests seemed to be out of the loop._

_“So, Ryan, what do you do for a living?” Cassidy questioned at the tail end of a group chuckle._

_Again, The Real-Cassidy could feel her dream-self maneuvering the conversation on to them. And again, she noted that her query engendered more mirth in the six regulars and nothing from their four guests. Ryan grinned broadly at her and forced an answer despite himself._

_“As little as possible.”_

_“So, you’re financially independent?” Cassidy questioned over the chuckles of the six regulars._

_The Real-Cassidy already knew from the background checks she ran on them that they were financially independent._

_“More or less,” Ryan returned with a wide smile._

_“Is this true of all of you?” Cassidy asked as she panned across the faces of the six regulars._

_Their chuckles expanded into laughter. Shortly into their mirth, Evan responded._

_“More or less.”_

_The laughter continued for several seconds more before Cassidy noticed that Barbara, Elliot, Cora and Kenneth were as clueless as she as to the source of this humor._

_“I imagine that I would be bored near to death if I didn’t have something to do,” Cassidy courteously suggested with a confused expression and a smile. “What do you do to occupy your time?”_

_With that question, the Real-Cassidy could feel her dream-self pursuing her plan to keep the focus on them. But as she advanced her question, she began to feel a little dizzy. The sensation caused her to rock back slightly. She righted herself in time to hear Alexandra’s enthusiastic response._

_“We entertain.”_

_Another burst of laughter erupted from the regulars behind that last remark. Cassidy heard nothing coming from the four guests. But she could not tell if it was because they were not laughing, or her mind was simply not registering it. With each passing second, the Real-Cassidy became increasingly aware that her dream-self was slipping into a stupor. This sudden change in her dream-self’s state of mind made her suspicious. She thought it was too quick to be the result of alcohol, and highly unlikely because she only had a few sips of wine almost an hour earlier. She started to believe that she had been drugged, but she could not think of how that was done. She had not ingested anything since the wine._

_Nearly a minute went by with nothing said. The Real-Cassidy noticed that the booth three regulars examined her with growing amusement. They began to whisper among themselves, but she was still able to hear what they said._

_“What shall we do with her?” Christine (Dumitra) spoke softly to everyone present._

_The question produced a few giggles and shortly a response._

_“There is no hurry on that, Dumitra, is there?” Ryan (Radu) said, looking and smiling her way._

_“What are you thinking, Radu?” Brooke (Adrianna) whispered._

_“She amuses me,” Ryan (Radu) answered with a constrained grin._

_The Real-Cassidy watched their exchange with a feeling of amazement, but it was a feeling that her dream-self did not share. She could feel that the mind of the Dream-Cassidy was vacant of any thoughts. It felt as if she were lost within a void that existed deep within her brain._

_“Flavia, please tell your mate to find his pleasures elsewhere,” Christine (Dumitra) instructed as she turned to look at Alexandra._

_“Dumitra, you take things too seriously,” Brooke (Adrianna) gently chastised with a feigned look of disapproval._

_“It could be, Adriana, that you do not take things seriously enough,” Christine (Dumitra) returned with a serious look that was not at all fake._

_“I like her,” Alexandra (Flavia) declared with a wide smile. “Why can’t we just play with her and then blank her memory?”_

_“Flavia, do please grow up,” Christine (Dumitra) responded with a critical expression._

_Alexandra (Flavia) showed no sign of being harmed by the rebuke and was quick to giggle in response._

_“I think we should dispose of her,” Evan (Razvan) announced._

_“I agree,” Christine (Dumitra) supported._

_The word dispose set off an alarm inside the Real-Cassidy. For the first time, she became fully aware that they were discussing her fate. She wanted to run or to call for help, but the body of the Dream-Cassidy did not respond to her commands. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see Barbara and Elliot. She examined them for some sign that they might come to her defense, but they looked to be just as dazed as her dream-self. They appeared in every way to be in a catatonic state._

_“Razvan, you know we must find out what she knows first,” Ronald (Sorin) instructed soberly. “There could be others examining us.”_

_Evan (Razvan) pondered his comment for a moment before agreeing with a nod of his head. During the silence that followed, Brooke (Adrianna) introduced a new point to consider._

_“Cristiãn may not care for us doing harm to her,” she suggested with a shrug._

_“Cristiãn likes her,” Alexandra (Flavia) agreed with an excited nod. “I can see it.”_

_“Cristiãn will have to find someone else to play with,” Evan (Razvan) challenged gruffly. “This is something we must address right now.”_

_“Still, we must question her,” Ronald (Sorin) insisted._

_“Yes, Sorin, we will do that,” Evan (Razvan) agreed with a hint of exasperation. “The question is, are we in agreement on what we have to do?”_

_“Shouldn’t that depend on what we hear?” Ronald (Sorin) challenged softly._

_“No, she examines us,” Christine (Dumitra) insisted. “She must be eliminated.”_

_“I think it is too soon after her partner,” Ryan (Radu) pondered aloud._

_“Of course, it will look like an accident,” Evan (Razvan) responded as though speaking the obvious._

_“It will look suspicious,” Ronald (Sorin) countered._

_“Suspicious or not, they will not connect it to us,” Evan (Razvan) returned defensively with temper._

_“We dare not become the focus of police attention,” Brooke (Adrianna) spoke up with a stern expression._

_“There it sits,” Christine (Dumitra) vehemently countered with a look of shock. “And as long as it lives and breathes it will not go away.”_

_There was no argument in response to her last remark. The Real-Cassidy could see that they were all coming around to the same decision. Ronald, Brooke, Ryan and Alexandra appeared to be doing so with varying degrees of reluctance. Evan and Christine were showing no emotion either way._

_“Then it is agreed?” Evan (Razvan) questioned after a moment of silence._

_Evan (Razvan) looked to his right and then to his left for any dissension. His eyes settled on Ronald (Sorin) for a few seconds who followed with his response._

_“It’s agreed.”_

_Another moment of silence went by before Alexandra (Flavia) expressed herself with a lack of enthusiasm that was not normal for her._

_“Aw, I like her.”_

_“Yes, Flavia, we gathered that,” Evan (Razvan) returned with a look of disbelief._

_A prolonged period of silence began, then all eyes of the booth three regulars turned on Cassidy and held there for several seconds. The Real-Cassidy had a sense of déjà vu. She knew who was about to speak and what was about to be said. Her attention went to Evan Pritchard._

_“Detective Tremaine, what makes you think that we had anything to do with these Greenbelt killings?”_

_“Haynes made calls to The Cavern,” Cassidy responded automatically._

_Cassidy’s report surprised the booth three regulars. There followed a moment of silence as they began to give one another suspicious glances. Evan (Razvan) then looked to Cassidy with a new question._

_“Which of us did he call?”_

_“I don’t know,” Cassidy answered blandly._

_Again, there was a moment of silence as all who were self-aware devoted some time to ponder her answer. After a brief time, Brooke (Adrianna) broke the silence._

_“Detective Tremaine, are we being investigated?”_

_The Real-Cassidy could feel that the Dream-Cassidy was having trouble determining the appropriate answer for that question. Shortly, Christine (Dumitra) jumped in with a new query on the same subject._

_“Detective Tremaine, is anyone other than you investigating us?”_

_“No,” Cassidy answered without delay._

_“What is the status of your investigation?” Christine (Dumitra) asked sternly._

_“The case is suspended pending a new lead or new evidence,” Cassidy returned without any sign of conscious thought._

_“Is anyone other than you doing the search for this new lead or evidence?” Ronald (Sorin) quickly asked._

_“No,” Cassidy returned with a subtle questioning tone. “The case will be reviewed periodically by cold case detectives.”_

_There was another moment of silence as the group gave her answer some thought, then Evan spoke up with a new question._

_“Does anyone other than you see us as suspects in this investigation?”_

_“No,” Cassidy promptly returned._

_“Detective Tremaine, why didn’t you close the case?” Christine (Dumitra) asked, exhibiting mild curiosity._

_“We think Andrew Lantz may have had an accomplice?” Cassidy automatically returned._

_Her answer gave Evan, Ronald, Christine and Brooke reason for momentary reflection. Ryan and Alexandra seemed to be content to let the others do the questioning. Shortly, a brief discussion broke the silence._

_“She has nothing,” Evan (Razvan) smugly announced to no one in particular._

_“She has enough to make her curious of us,” Christine (Dumitra) countered._

_“Yes,” Evan (Razvan) agreed with a look and a smile. “But it’s not enough to lead the authorities to us if she comes to an unfortunate end.”_

_There was a long moment of quiet behind his remark. Evan (Razvan) looked to the others for any dissent. With no forthcoming comments from anyone, he took their silence as affirmation._

_“Okay.”_

_“Aw, I’m going to miss her,” Alexandra (Flavia) complained somberly._

_“You don’t even know her,” Christine (Dumitra) contradicted incredulously._

_“She’s different,” Alexandra (Flavia) argued back playfully. “These weekend party mortals are all the same. I like the feeling of intrigue I get when she’s around,” she finished in a dejected tone._

_“Well, you’re going to have to find your intrigue elsewhere,” Evan (Razvan) instructed looking at Alexandra (Flavia). “Detective Tremaine is too dangerous to keep around.”_

_“Well, if we’re not going to let her go can we at least give her a night she’ll remember for the remainder of her life?” Ryan (Radu) asked with a sly smile._

_“Yes,” Alexandra (Flavia) supported cheerfully._

_Evan (Razvan) gave Ryan (Radu) a smug look then a smile._

_“I suppose that’s the least we can do.”_

_Alexandra (Flavia) cheered and clapped her hands. Evan, Christine, Ronald and Brooke snuggled back into their seats and looked on, waiting for something to happen; Alexandra and Ryan followed their lead. The Real-Cassidy watched them with growing fear. Her imagination foretold what was about to happen while her mind attempted to dismiss it as fiction to be ignored._

_As the regulars examined Dream-Cassidy, The Real-Cassidy could feel her dream-self stir into awareness. She had the sensation of rousing from a deep slumber that seemed so familiar to her. But moments later, the sensation began to feel prolonged and unnatural. She could feel how her dream-mind was being held from achieving full cognizance. As she struggled for clarity, the Real-Cassidy began to hear her dream-self mumble out one and two-word questions._

_“What? Where am…? What’s going…?”_

_Dream-Cassidy felt disoriented. Her sense of sight, sound and smell were degraded. The Real-Cassidy had no such hindrance and was immediately aware of the four additional guests, Barbara, Elliot, Cora and Kenneth. Their mental stirrings, coupled with their moans and physical movements, coincided with her own struggle for self-awareness. Moments later, Cassidy began to feel physically aroused._

_The sensation of sexual excitement came on gradually then grew rapidly. The Real-Cassidy felt that the mental state of her dream-self was in a stupor. Her dream-self had a faint awareness of who and where she was, but she was too groggy to act. Her effort to clear her head was also complicated by her growing sexual arousal. Her dream-self was not aware of the writhing she exhibited in response to the sensations she was experiencing, but the Real-Cassidy could plainly see that her feelings were breaking down her inhibitions. Real-Cassidy also noticed that the booth three regulars were watching her evolving contortions with dispassion and amusement. They watched Cassidy nearly to the exclusion of their four other guests who were kissing and groping and disrobing each other._

_“Elliot,” Alexandra (Flavia) called out to her guest that had Barbara Markowitz pinned to floor and half naked._

_There was no response from him. He continued kissing Barbara about the mouth and neck while he fondled her bare breast in his hand._

_“Elliot!” Alexandra (Flavia) called out in a louder voice._

_Elliot Copeland looked up at Alexandra with a dazed expression. Alexandra directed his attention toward Cassidy with a hand gesture. It took him a moment to comprehend her meaning. Then he raced over to the couch and threw himself atop Cassidy. His lips searched out her lips, her neck, her breast. His hands were everywhere. The Real-Cassidy could feel how out of control her dream-self was. She was lost in the throes of lust and arousal. Her mind had lost all interest in anything else going on. Her body relished the attention of the man in the process of ravishing her._

_Alexandra (Flavia) giggled repeatedly at the sight of Cassidy out of control. Ryan (Radu) shared her amusement with a wide smile. Christine, Evan, Brooke and Ronald displayed no sign of amusement in what they saw, but their eyes did not stray. They watched Cassidy even though Cora and Kenneth were already fully engaged in sexual intercourse, and Barbara kissed and groped at the two of them for any attention she could get._

_Elliot had been on top of Cassidy for little more than a minute when his hand found its way between her legs. Cassidy moaned excitedly at the feel of his touch and then searched out Elliot’s lips as if to award his action. She writhed heavily under the attention of his hand and clasped him tight around the neck and back. She was lost in the moment; she could not get enough of the man who was on top of her—nothing else existed, only the man ravishing her. For the Real-Cassidy every sound and every person within the room registered within her mind. She heard the ecstatic moans of Cora, Kenneth and Barbara as they rolled about the floor. She could see the regulars watching her with amusement and glee. And then she heard the apartment door open and shut just as Elliot moved his head down between Dream-Cassidy’s legs. He began to kiss her there while simultaneously searching out the tops of her panties so that he could pull them down. He was seconds from accomplishing his goal when David Burrell grasped his arm, pulled him off Cassidy and threw him several feet across the room to the floor._

_“Cristiãn,” Brooke (Adrianna) called out as she and Ronald (Sorin) stood up. “What are you doing here?”_

_Ryan and Alexandra also rose to their feet. Evan and Christine gave David’s presence no special attention._

_“Not her,” David (Cristiãn) bellowed angrily toward Evan (Razvan)._

_The Real-Cassidy saw David’s anger even as her dream-self jumped up from the couch, threw her arms about him and began to kiss him despite his resistance._

_“She’s just another mortal, Cristiãn,” Christine (Dumitra) complained with a frown. “Find another to play with.”_

_David took a moment to push Cassidy back just far enough to create a small gulf between them, but she struggled to continue her amorous advances on him._

_“This mortal is off limits, Dumitra,” David commanded._

_“I told you he liked her,” Alexandra (Flavia) boasted gleefully._

_“She’s a danger to us all,” Evan (Razvan) asserted strongly as he got up onto his feet. “You can’t keep her from us.”_

_“To us all or to you, Razvan?” David questioned angrily. “Is there something you’re hiding?”_

_“Are you accusing me of something, Cristiãn,” Evan (Razvan) returned with a scowl._

_Cassidy stopped her struggle to get past David’s resistance and went limp. David pulled her into his embrace and allowed her to snuggle at his chest. Dream-Cassidy closed her eyes despite the efforts of the Real-Cassidy to do otherwise. David returned Evan’s scowl then responded with acrimony in his tone._

_“I will not have her harmed.”_

_“Be reasonable, Cristiãn,” Christine (Dumitra) countered with insistence. “She examines us all. You cannot make a pet of her.”_

_“Dumitra is right, Cristiãn,” Brooke (Adrianna) supported with reluctance. “She is a problem for all of us.”_

_“I will take care of this,” David returned._

_“Be realistic, Cristiãn,” Ronald (Sorin) pleaded. “She’s a threat.”_

_“She continues to investigate us,” Brooke added in support of Ronald (Sorin). “Think of what could happen if she convinces others to suspect us.”_

_“We all agreed on this, Cristiãn,” Ronald (Sorin) added soberly._

_“You cannot make this decision,” David argued as he gathered Cassidy’s purse off the end table. “The others will be here Monday. By then she will have lost interest in this investigation. I promise.”_

_“Don’t be stupid, Cristiãn,” Christine (Dumitra) argued. “This is her job. She will always come back to this mindset.”_

_“Monday,” David insisted as he scooped Cassidy up into his arms and setoff for the apartment door. “I have until then. You don’t decide.”_

_Cassidy promptly opened her eyes, wrapped her arms about David’s neck and began to smooch him as they walked. David was a step away from reaching the apartment door when Evan (Razvan) yelled after him._

_“Monday, Cristiãn!”_

_The Real-Cassidy listened to their entire conversation as though it had come through a radio. The Dream-Cassidy had no idea what was happening. When David set her down on her feet at the door, The Real-Cassidy could feel her excitement well up in response to being under her own control again. She immediately attempted to kiss him on the lips again. He evaded her efforts several times as he guided her through the doorway and down the corridor. The Real-Cassidy could feel the persistence in her dream-self. She felt how her dream-self was aware of nothing. Her desire to have sex with David, or with anyone else available, was a mindless compulsion that dominated her existence at that moment. When they stopped at the elevator door, her hands made several attempts to undo his tie and unbutton his shirt. David intercepted each effort by grasping her hands and steering them away from his garments._

_The Real-Cassidy saw David smile when he restrained her dream-self with a hug and looked into her eyes. The bell for the elevator rang before the door slid open. David separated himself from their hug and led her into the elevator. When they stopped inside, Cassidy’s amorous intentions went back into full activation as she attempted to disrobe him once again. David quickly pulled her hands away from his shirt. As he grappled with her hands, she tilted her face up to kiss him. David turned away from her kiss and fixed his attention on the elevator buttons. As he reached out and pressed the button for the parking level, Cassidy stooped down and unzipped his pants. David caught her arm before she could put her hand inside his pants. He pulled her up and pressed her against the wall of the elevator. While restraining both her arms behind her with just one of his, David zipped his pants back up. Once again, Cassidy took advantage of his distraction to kiss him on the lips. He entertained her kiss for several seconds before pulling away just as the elevator came to a stop._

_“Okay, Ms. Tremaine, let’s get you home,” David whispered to Cassidy with a smile._

_When the elevator door slid open, David led a giddy, dazed and affectionate Cassidy into the parking garage and to her car. The Dream-Cassidy had no knowledge of what was happening despite the fact that her motor skills and mental acuity had much improved. Her highly aroused state kept her thoughts on David and sex. And for the first time, she could articulate what she was thinking._

_“Are we going to do it in the car, David?” Cassidy inquired, intoxicated with delight. “I’ve never done it in a car before.”_

_Cassidy paused to giggle at the thought of having sex in the back seat of a car, and then she was seized with a thought that produced even greater delight for her._

_“But there’s a first time for everything, right?”_

_The Real-Cassidy paid little attention to what her dream-self was saying. She paid close attention to the return of her mental faculties. She felt her thinking begin to improve from the moment she stepped out of the apartment. It felt as if the intake of new air began to clear the fog from her mind._

_“That sounds very exciting, Ms. Tremaine,” David said as he stopped beside the driver’s door of Cassidy’s car and began rummaging through her purse for the key. “But I think I’m going to have to pass on that tonight.”_

_Cassidy’s reaction to his rejection was to step in close so that their faces were inches apart then whispered a reply thick with sexual innuendo._

_“I know you want me.”_

_David found the keys, pressed the keypad button to unlock the door and turned away to open it. He then maneuvered Cassidy down into the driver’s seat._

_“I want you too,” Cassidy continued with a smile as David lifted her legs into the car. “I always have; from the first moment I saw you. I bet you didn’t know that.”_

_“No, I didn’t,” David responded just before he shut the door._

_David closed the driver’s door and then walked around to the passenger door with the keys still in his hand. He immediately opened the door, climbed into the passenger’s seat and closed the door behind him. No sooner had he closed himself in, than Cassidy leaned in toward him, making their proximity more intimate._

_“Hi,” Cassidy said with a large smile and her face just inches from his._

_“Hi,” David returned with a smile while gently clasping her head between his hands._

_His attention brought Cassidy nearly to a grin. She waited for David to kiss her on the lips and was taken by surprise when he kissed her on the forehead._

_“Relax,” David whispered into Cassidy’s face as he gently pushed her back into her seat._

_At first, Cassidy resisted the push. She strained to physically connect with David._

_“Relax, Cassidy. Relax,” David continued to whisper as he slowly settled Cassidy back into her seat._

_The Real-Cassidy could feel her dream-self calming. She noticed how quickly the effect was washing over her._

_“Sleep,” David instructed softly._

_Instantly after hearing that one word, Dream-Cassidy closed eyes and began to drift off into slumber._

_“Sleep,” David continued to whisper while he slowly took his hands away from Cassidy’s head. “Sleep, sleep.”_

_David moved back from Cassidy and examined her for a short time as she slept. The Real-Cassidy sensed his presence but could see nothing while the eyes of her dream-self were closed. He began to speak to her again in a soft voice._

_“Cassidy, do you hear me?”_

_“Yes,” Cassidy answered with her eyes still closed._

_“Cassidy, when you awaken you will not remember what happened upstairs. You will not remember coming here. Do you understand?”_

_“Yes,” Cassidy returned as she slept._

_“When you wake up your only thought will be to go home. Do you understand?”_

_“Yes,” Cassidy answered as she continued to sleep._

_“When you wake up you will not remember meeting Ryan, or Alexandra, or Brooke, or Ronald, or Christine or Evan. You will forget your entire time with them. Do you understand?”_

_“Yes,” Cassidy answered._

_“Cassidy, listen carefully to this,” David leaned forward and whispered. “Are you listening?”_

_“Yes,” Cassidy answered from behind closed eyes._

_“When you get home, you will go to bed, and you will sleep for the remainder of the night. When you wake up tomorrow you will feel refreshed. You will feel happy. And your investigation of the Greenbelt murders will be the last thing on your mind. Do you understand?”_

_“Yes,” Cassidy confirmed from a deep sleep._

_“You will lose all interest in this case. As the hours, days, weeks and months go by, you will remember less and less of it. Do you understand?”_

_“Yes,” Cassidy confirmed._

_David said nothing for several seconds. The Real-Cassidy suspected that he was examining her. It was the only explanation that made sense of the silence._

_“When you hear the car door close, you will start to wake up,” David instructed, breaking the silence. “When you are fully awake, you will go home. Do you understand?”_

_“Yes,” Cassidy confirmed again._

_The Real-Cassidy saw nothing because Dream-Cassidy’s eyes were closed, but she listened to all that had been said with great interest. She recalled his words just an instant before he spoke them, but rehearing them intrigued her greatly. She had no visual memory of their exchange. She took note of the silence that that followed, and then she felt a soft kiss on her lips. A few seconds later, she heard the front passenger door open and then felt the thump of it as it closed shut._


	18. Breathe

“Did you get your memories back?”

Cassidy barely heard Nadja’s question. She was leaning against the side of the desk with her head in her hands. Her brain was busy trying to focus in on where she was. Her mind felt as if it was suddenly waking from a deep sleep. She shook her head several times to help clear away the lethargy. Shortly, her knowledge of the here and now began to merge with the newly recovered memories swirling around in the forefront of her mind. It took her a few seconds to take it all in, and then her thoughts focused in on the truth of what had just transpired.

“You did that?” Cassidy asked, suddenly aware that lost memories had been restored.

“You’re welcome,” Nadja responded coolly while sitting on the end of the sofa closest to the door.

Cassidy paused for several minutes to adjust to her new reality. Accepting the fact that her memories could be so easily taken and restored was not an automatic function. It took her a considerable amount of time and mental effort to suppress her disbelief. Then she finally latched on to a new thought.

“Is there more?” she asked anxiously.

“You tell me,” Nadja returned casually. “Are there any blind-spots in your memory?”

Despite the bit of jest in Nadja’s tone, her question prompted Cassidy to examine her recent past. She soon concluded that she would not recognize a blind-spot even if it were there. She had not been aware of any blind-spots before those memories were returned to her.

Cassidy lost her amazement with the idea of losing and gaining memories when she recalled the phrase, _“I think we should dispose of her.”_ She became flustered when she recovered that memory. She looked at Nadja with a new awareness of her precarious situation. She wanted to take hope from the idea that her fate had not been decided yet and from David’s strident defense of her. But understanding her situation produced a new thought and a question.

“Why are you telling me all of this?”

Nadja was reluctant to give a truthful answer so chose to say nothing. Cassidy inferred from her silence that she was not going to live long enough to repeat any of it. She took a deep breath to strengthen her courage to endure the fear that her thoughts produced. She then turned her thoughts to another subject that churned in her mind.

“Why did Cristiãn say that he would drink my blood?”

Nadja felt no reluctance toward answering that question.

“Ingesting the blood of a mortal magnifies the effect of our pheromones on that mortal.”

“So, your pheromones work better on the people you drink blood from?” Cassidy questioned with restrained fear.

“Yes.”

Her answer confirmed Cassidy’s suspicion. She understood that her investigation of the booth three regulars had made her a problem for the vampires. She gathered from her recovered memories that David had been trying to back her away from that focus. She hoped that his entreaty to bite her was a viable alternative to killing her. But her memories on that subject suggested that most of the vampires did not think it would be enough to derail her investigation.

“But drinking my blood can’t guarantee that a memory will stay blocked?” Cassidy questioned with suspicion.

“It gives us a powerful depth of control over a mortal,” Nadja explained with a nod. “But keeping a memory blocked indefinitely requires continuous maintenance.”

“Then why won’t they let David drink my blood?” Cassidy asked.

“Because it’s a dangerous risk,” Nadja educated flatly.

“I don’t understand,” Cassidy returned with a hint of desperation. “You said drinking my blood would give David more control.”

“When we drink the blood of a mortal our control of them is ten times more powerful,” Nadja explained with a casual delivery. “But this depth of control is just as fallible over time as a compulsion without the assistance of blood enhanced pheromones. With a mortal’s blood in our system we can create a memory block quicker and easier, and it will likely last longer. But that’s all it will do. The brain forgets the small stuff on its own, but large thoughts and memories that are blocked off in the mind torments people. These torments reconstruct lost thoughts and memories. Sooner or later all compulsions around significant events or thoughts break down.”

“So, does that mean you can’t block a memory?” Cassidy asked for more clarity.

Nadja sat still for a moment as she gave her question a moment of thought. She shortly rose to her feet and took two steps toward Cassidy without expression. Her gaze was fixed on her, and it did not waver. Cassidy was unnerved by her change in manner and leaned back in response. Cassidy relaxed, slightly, when Nadja began to explain.

“The only way to be sure that a compulsion stays in place is through continuous reinforcement. Cristiãn would have to fortify the compulsion every three weeks at a maximum. And because enhanced pheromones last only as long as the blood of the mortal is in a vampire’s system, he would have to feed on you each time. The continuous maintenance of the block increases the chance that he will be found out. And even with the block, there is no guarantee that some casual event won’t trigger a reawakening.” 

Nadja paused, giving weight to her last remark, and then she concluded.

“The risk is not limited to David. It extends to all of us.”

Cassidy barely notice her last remark. Her mind had turned inward in response to a sensation that was welling up inside of her. A sudden fluttering of her heart and a sudden feeling of apprehension began to capture her attention. She began to wonder if her anxiety was causing the palpitations or was it the other way around. After a long moment of examining herself, she noticed that Nadja had gone silent. She looked up and saw her gaze fixed on her.

“What’s happening?” Cassidy asked with a slight tremble in her voice.

Nadja stood rigidly and took a breath while holding her stare on Cassidy.

“I suspect you’re experiencing an abnormal heartbeat.”

Cassidy’s eyes widened from shock after hearing Nadja’s casual description of what she was experiencing at that moment.

“Are you doing this?” Cassidy asked with a sudden shortness of breath.

“Yes,” Nadja reported without any outward change in her behavior.

“What-what are you do-doing to me?” Cassidy coughed out with difficulty.

Cassidy pushed herself back along the edge of the desk and away from Nadja as she spoke. The look of fear on her face seemed to expand with each labored breath that she took.

“I am escalating your anxiety.”

Nadja took two steps forward as she spoke. Cassidy stood up in response to her statement and fumbled back away from the desk and up against the wall.

“What?” Cassidy asked with a confused expression.

“You’re feeling the effects of extreme hypertension,” Nadja explained with an absence of emotion.

“You-you’re kill-killing me!” Cassidy exclaimed with a look of shock.

“Yes, I am.”

Cassidy pushed back along the wall and further away from Nadja. She felt a desperate need to get away from her. Cassidy’s eyes began to search for an escape. The door was behind Nadja. She quickly concluded that there was no chance of getting past Nadja and began to scan the contents of the room for a weapon. She saw nothing that could be used to any great effect. Despite this she lunged toward Nadja and tried to fight her way past her. The effort was feeble. The exertion expended what little oxygen she had within her. Her breathing was labored and wheezing. She stumbled backwards into a corner of the room while gasping for air. Nadja moved a step closer. Cassidy slid to the floor.

“Soon you may start to feel pain in your chest, in your left arm or in your jaw,” Nadja breathed out in a voice calculated to elevate Cassidy’s fear. “The pain in your chest might feel like a burning, or like a fist clenched around your heart. Breathing will continue to grow more difficult. You should begin to feel more and more lightheaded as I speak.”

“Why are you doing this?” Cassidy asked with extreme worry.

“I have no choice,” Nadja returned flatly.

“But your-your brother,” Cassidy puffed out with effort. “He wants me to live.”

“It is for him that I am doing this,” Nadja growled back.

“He-he, he wants, he wants me to live,” Cassidy gasped out again.

“And I want him to live,” Nadja countered with finality.

Cassidy did not know how to respond to that. She struggled with the terror and effects of Nadja’s attention. Shortly, Nadja began to explain the reason behind her remark.

“I know my brother. He cares for you. He cares for you like none other since Constantia.”

“Then why, why are you killing me?” Cassidy queried with as much desperation that her breath could produce.

“Because they will kill my brother if I don’t kill you first,” Nadja answered with a stern expression.

Cassidy was confused into silence. She gave Nadja a wide-eyed stare as she continued to struggle to breath.

“He will fight for you,” Nadja continued. “And he will not forgive those that he blames for your death. I know my brother. He will kill for you, or he will try. Either way it means his death.”

Nadja hesitated, searching for the right words. In the end, she spoke her truth.

“He’s my brother. He’s my twin,” Nadja declared with passion.

Nadja paused and glared at Cassidy with the weight of the thoughts she held.

“I’m the only vampire that Cristiãn will not raise a hand to,” Nadja continued with insistence. “I am the only one who can kill you. He may never forgive me for it, but he’ll be alive. I will not lose my brother because of you. —I won’t. —I can’t.”

Cassidy now understood her predicament. She knew that reasoning with her had little chance for success. Instinct and fear motivated her to try to get back up on her feet. The effort sapped her of the wind needed to accomplish it, and she fell back down to a sitting position on the floor. She then turned her face away from Nadja. She could feel a pronounced tightness in her chest. It grew in intensity the more she focused on it. The terror swelled within her despite all her attempts to control it. A few seconds later, her growing lightheadedness began to distort her vision. The sight of Nadja standing above her caused her heart to beat at a faster pace. Cassidy gasped for air as she gripped her hand to her chest. She had no awareness of anything other than the turmoil that was raging inside of her. And then suddenly, it began to subside.

“What are you doing?” Petru demanded while looking from Nadja to Cassidy and back.

Nadja turned from Cassidy and toward the door just as her mate walked in.

“I am doing what I must, Petru,” Nadja explained with a stern expression.

“They want her in the main room,” Petru explained while holding his focus on Nadja. “Everyone is here.”

“What do they need her for?” Nadja challenged with annoyance.

“Lucian wants to ask her some questions,” Petru answered dismissively.

Without wasting a second Petru turned the subject to the matter that concerned him most at that moment.

“Cristiãn will never forgive you if you kill her.”

“But he will be alive,” Nadja roared back. “You know what will happen if he tries to interfere with the outcome of the vote.”

“You don’t know how the vote will come down.”

“Yes, I do, and so do you,” Nadja disputed with defiance. “And you know better than I how he feels about her.”

Petru had no immediate response. He seemed to be looking through Nadja as he considered her words. He knew that Nadja referred to his connection with Cristiãn as his maker. That fact gave him and Cristiãn a connection that not even she could match with her brother. He could feel the emotions in Cristiãn and vice versa. When they were near each other, their connection was made through the pheromones they emanated. He knew the depth of Cristiãn’s feelings for Cassidy and the weight of pain her death would inflict. After a long pause, his concern changed to determination. 

“I can’t let you do this,” Petru spoke as he moved to Cassidy. “Cristiãn will never forgive you.”

Petru grabbed Cassidy by the arm and pulled her to her feet. He pulled her along behind him as he started for the door. Nadja put up no resistance as she listened to Petru explain his motivation.

“We may be able to resolve this to everyone’s liking,” Petru insisted. “You can’t be sure what will happen. We have to try.”

Petru was not sure he believed what he had just said. Hope was the motivation behind the words. He knew that all the vampires, other than himself, Nadja and Cristiãn, would be inclined to vote for Cassidy’s death. It was his hope that the divide would cause several of the other vampires to agree to a compromise. It was far from a sure bet, but in his mind, it was not inconceivable. It was a gamble he felt he had to take. He had no doubt that Cassidy’s death by Nadja’s doing would destroy the relationship between the siblings. That was a scenario he feared to see. As their maker, he cringed at the thought of their emotional anguish flooding into his mind and sensitivities. They were the two dearest vampires to him, and their pain was something that he did not want to see or experience. As he steered Cassidy toward the door, his mind was in a desperate search for an alternate ending.

Despite her disagreement with his reasoning, Nadja said nothing as she watched Petru lead Cassidy out of the room. She examined him with a mix of fear and concern. She knew that Petru experienced her brother feelings to the same degree he felt hers. And because of that, she thought it unwise to challenge her mate’s decision to overrule her. She knew that his choice to side with Cristiãn over her pragmatic decision to kill Cassidy became final the moment he took her in hand. Nadja stood in place for several seconds after Petru and Cassidy left the office; then she followed.

For Cassidy, the discourse between Nadja and Petru’s existed as little more than background noise. Her brain was still struggling with the terror that had gripped her mind. Her awareness that something had changed suddenly came to the front of her attention when Petru pulled her up from the floor. She hurried alongside the male vampire out of desperation to be out of the room and away from Nadja.

Shortly, Cassidy found herself in the hall outside of the office. She pulled back against Petru’s lead. He stopped to give her time to catch her breath.

“Slow deep breaths,” Petru urged in a soft voice. “You’ll be okay—slow deep breaths.”

Petru allowed Cassidy time for several deep breaths.

“Come on,” Petru urged with a gentle tug at her arm.

Petru supported Cassidy as they went down the hall. Her breathing continued to be labored. Her look of fear had transitioned to dismay. Her mind had cleared to the point that she knew where she was going and why. Her new state of awareness had her mind in a frantic search for a way out. But with each passing second, it looked increasingly unlikely. Running and fighting were not viable options, and no other strategy came to mind.

Nadja followed several steps behind Petru and Cassidy. She was reluctant to enter the room where the other vampires were waiting. She feared what would happen. She feared how it would end. And her fear was not limited to just her brother. Nadja knew that Petru would stand by Cristiãn. To what extent she could not be sure, but she feared that a conflict could bring him to the same fate. And she had no doubt that interference from her to protect Cristiãn would bring Petru full into the fray. The more she thought about it the more she wanted Cassidy dead.

Nadja and Petru’s love for each other existed without question. This feeling was maintained by their connection as biologically mated vampires, but its genesis went back to when she was a mortal. Her first meeting with Petru came about when he was more than three-hundred years into his life as a vampire. She fell in love with him despite his vampire affliction, and he fell in love with her at first sight. Their romance as vampire and mortal had been going on for three years when Nadja finally convinced him to turn her despite the risk of killing her. Petru was the only person that she cared for as much as she did for Cristiãn.

“This way,” Petru encouraged as he steered Cassidy through the entryway to the main room.

Cassidy followed his lead with hesitant baby steps. Her slow deep breathing was still a conscious act, but she could feel the increasing ease of it. Several seconds later, they were in the main room of the nightclub. Cassidy stopped several feet in front of the bar. She was reluctant to go into the center of the room.

Her heart was still thumping in her chest, but that was not the cause of her hesitation. She was afraid of what was to come. Her mind was no longer focused on what was happening inside of her. She was very much aware that this was the meeting that would decide her fate. After two deep breaths, she began her walk toward the center of the main room.

The first thing that Cassidy saw when she stepped onto the floor of the main room of the club was the number of vampires. She did not bother with counting them. She suspected the number would come to seventeen. With the addition of Petru and Nadja, she was sure the count would be the same as all the vampires from the Romanian cave: 19. After scanning the room, Cassidy’s eyes came to rest on David/Cristiãn. Their eyes locked on each other. She saw him through her own expression of fear and knew that he represented her only chance to survive the coming event.

When David/Cristiãn cast his eyes over Cassidy, he was shocked at her appearance. She looked tired and in pain. Her posture was bent as Petru maintained a supportive hold of her arm. He examined the terrified look in her eyes, and then he turned angry eyes on Nadja for several seconds. The room was still when he turned his gaze back to Cassidy, then Lucian’s voice broke the silence.

“Detective Tremaine, welcome to our inquisition.”


	19. Vampire Inquisition

“Are you okay?” Lucian asked Cassidy.

Lucian looked suspiciously at Nadja after Petru brought her to a stop in the middle of the U-shaped formation of tables.

“I’ve been better,” Cassidy grumbled back with a scowl on her face.

Cassidy looked back over her left shoulder and exchanged looks with David/Cristiãn and then watched as Nadja and Petru took seats in the two chairs to his right.

“I apologize for that,” Lucian returned pleasantly. “We will try to make this as comfortable for you as possible.”

“So, there’s a comfortable way of killing someone?” Cassidy questioned sarcastically. “That is what you’re planning to do with me?”

“Your future is something that we will be discussing at some point,” Lucian confessed in an apologetic tone. “But that’s not why you’re here now. Right now, you’re here to help us with a concern that we have with your investigation.”

Cassidy was immediately offended by his language. In her mind, they were murderers, one and all. The killing of the nine-people found in the Greenbelt was not a concern. It was an unconscionable crime. By her way of thinking, they were treating human beings like something disposable, and his verbiage supported her perception. 

“Concern? So, killing people is not a crime, it’s a concern. You’re concerned that your nocturnal practices will be uncovered. Is that about right?”

“Not completely, Detective. We are concerned about the accusation that one or more of our members are killing mortals,” Lucian corrected. “But we’re not convinced that it’s true.”

“What more do you need?” Cassidy questioned with a look of amazement. “We dug up nine bodies that appear to have died of massive blood loss without any sign of an injury severe enough to account for it.”

Her report caused everyone present to go still and silent. The eyes of all present looked back and forth across the room to examine each other. A short moment later, Lucian broke the silence.

“That was not in the news reports.”

“The medical examiners were not able to confirm it because of the extreme decomposition of the bodies. And the absence of copious amounts of blood on the clothing has them hesitant to speculate that blood loss was the cause of death,” Cassidy explained. “But I assure you that blood loss and poisoning are the only two possibilities left.”

“So, you haven’t discounted poisoning?” Lucian asserted with a questioning inflection.

Cassidy felt no need to conceal the details of her investigation from anyone here. She was convinced that the killer or killers were in this room. And she suspected that anything she said or did that made her presence useful gave her a better chance of surviving this inquisition.

“Several of the victims had signs of unusual bite marks on their bones.” Cassidy explained.

Once again, the room went silent as the nineteen looked to each other for a moment. Cassidy paused briefly to view their reactions.

“You know this is the doing of someone here. Why are you denying it to me?”

“Contrary to what you clearly think of us, it is not our practice to go around killing mortals,” Lucian explained. “If your assertion is right, then someone here has broken with a pledge that he, she or they gave to all of us.”

“Fine, so what’s the penalty for that, double membership dues for a year?” Cassidy countered sarcastically.

Lucian showed no sign of amusement or offense by Cassidy’s sarcasm. He waited patiently for Cassidy to finish.

“No, Detective, the penalty is much more severe than that.”

“Lucian, she has nothing that proves this,” Dumitra asserted with a palms-up gesture. “We can’t turn upon one another based upon what this one mortal says.”

“I agree with Dumitra,” Adrianna supported. “We are all that is left of us.”

“Yes,” Flavia eagerly seconded. “We can get past this. Whoever did it just won’t do it anymore.”

“Do you think this is wise, Lucian?” Eugen asked with a concerned look. “There is the risk that this could put us at odds with each other.”

Eugen, a male vampire, was one of several here that came into the country solely for this meeting.

“Overlooking this breach could set a dangerous precedent,” Stefan jumped in to lecture with emphasis.

“And overreacting to it could lead to our undoing,” Sorin instantly disputed.

“Sorin is right,” Razvan agreed. “Staying united should be our first concern.”

“So, you would have us do nothing?” Stefan challenged with a stern look at Razvan.

“What else dare we do?” Adrianna questioned as though speaking the obvious. “This mortal knows nothing. And if one or some of us did these killings then he, she or they will surely think twice about doing it again. It’s over.”

“And what about the rest of you?” Lucian questioned. “Will you think twice, and what will be the result of that second thought. If there is no penalty, does the law exist at all?”

“Lucian, the woman is guessing,” Dumitra softly insisted. “There’s no evidence that those killings were done by anyone here.”

“Except for the fact that someone here tried to kill her,” David/Cristiãn countered with conviction.

“There is no proof that it was one of us,” Dumitra disputed sternly.

David/Cristiãn had no emotional or political investment in the argument. His sole concern was Cassidy’s wellbeing, which was the reason he brought up the matter. He had no doubt that two or more of them there had tried to kill Cassidy. And he feared they would try again if they survived this inquisition.

“I believe that it was,” David/Cristiãn defended stoically.

“You’re not thinking straight,” Razvan countered, quite perturbed.

David/Cristiãn was angered by the remark but did not challenge it. He had no compelling concern about who was responsible for the killings. His thoughts were focused on any argument that would extricate Cassidy from this deadly situation. That is why he gave Razvan a disapproving glare for a response.

“Detective Tremaine, do you have anything that proves someone here did these killings?” Lucian questioned politely.

“Maybe,” Cassidy returned with a hint of defiance. “But why should I tell you?”

“This is your investigation, Detective,” Lucian countered with a frown. “In case you missed it, we’re trying to find the killer too.”

“And what happens to me when you find the killer?”

Cassidy had no expectations of Lucian’s answer to her question. She did not think any help she provided to their discovery was going to affect her situation. She just knew that she had to use any and every stratagem available to her.

“That hasn’t been decided yet,” Lucian mildly replied.

“I was told you already have,” Cassidy sharply countered.

Cristiãn and Lucian briefly glanced at Nadja after hearing that last remark.

“It is within our power to make you forget everything that has happened here,” Lucian calmly assured.

“But it’s a risk,” Cassidy challenged, “a risk you’re not sure you’re willing to take.”

Once again Cristiãn and Lucian turned their eyes on Nadja. She responded to Cristiãn’s look with a stone-faced expression.

“This is a waste of time,” Stefan roared into the brief silence that filled the room. “If she knew anything, we would have heard it already.”

“What if I can tell you who the killer is,” Cassidy argued back at Stefan.

“Do you know who the killer is?” Stefan challenged without delay.

After hearing his question, Cassidy hesitated for a moment and gave Stefan a hard stare.

“I can find out.”

Stefan returned her stare for a moment then dismissed her claim by addressing the group.

“She’s just stalling for time.”

Cassidy turned to look at Lucian with an expression of desperation.

“What’s it worth to you? I tell you who the killer is and…” Cassidy paused and looked to David/Cristiãn with fright. “You take the risk.”

Lucian suddenly stood and gazed at Cassidy for a moment.

“You forget, Detective Tremaine,” Lucian spoke as he rose from his chair. “I don’t have to barter for anything I want from you.”

David/Cristiãn instantly stood up from his chair and tensed. Stefan immediately reacted to Cristiãn by rising from his chair and going rigid. Petru and Nadja, in turn, stood and tensed at the ready. The remaining fourteen vampires showed no interest in being involved in the unfolding drama. They noted the heightened tension with shifting glances, but no one moved to intervene.

“Wait!” Cassidy called out with her hands up in front of her. “I can tell you who the killer is: but I need my phone.” 

Cassidy pointed to her cellphone that was still atop Lucian’s table along with her gun. Lucian, Stefan and many of the other vampires gave it and Cassidy a suspicious look. A couple of seconds later Stefan responded to her request.

“We’re not giving her the cellphone,” Stefan insisted with a look that suggested he thought the request was absurd.

Lucian ignored Stefan’s comment and casually directed his next words to Cassidy.

“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen, Detective.”

“If you want to know who is responsible for those killings then you’re going to have to give me my cellphone,” Cassidy argued.

“This is ridiculous,” Dumitra blurted out. “What could she have on her cellphone? She just wants to call for help.”

“If she knew who did the killings she would have said so.” Razvan supported.

“I don’t know who did the killings,” Cassidy argued at Razvan. “But I have a way of finding out. I need my cellphone to do that,” Cassidy insisted as she turned her attention back to Lucian.

Lucian gazed steadily at Cassidy, then he picked her cellphone up from the table.

“Tell me,” Lucian instructed as he held up the cellphone.

Cassidy realized that Lucian was not going to allow her to hold the cellphone. She breathed out a sigh of frustration, and then submitted to the condition.

“Log into the phone, 2-2-9-7-1-5.”

Lucian paused a moment, then complied with her instructions. Shortly, the cellphone screen was illuminated. Lucian showed the screen to Cassidy.

“Now what?”

“Tap the messaging app at the top left corner of the screen,” Cassidy answered.

Lucian paused again to consider the request and then did as he was told. When a list of messages appeared on the screen, he gave them a glance and then looked up at Cassidy.

“Okay, next?”

“There should be a message in there from Nina Chan,” Cassidy answered. “It’s probably at the top of the list.”

“Yes, I see it,” Lucian replied after a brief look at the phone.

“Open it,” Cassidy directed.

Lucian did this with a touch of his finger. He then took a moment to read it to himself.

“What does it say?” Cassidy asked when she noted that he had read it to himself.

“Here is the phone number,” Lucian read aloud as he looked down at the cellphone. “And there’s a phone number beneath the message.”

Lucian gave Cassidy a what-next-look after reading the message, and her response was concise.

“Touch the number with your finger to dial it.”

Lucian paused to consider this instruction before asking the question his contemplation produced.

“What does this number connect to?”

“The killer,” Cassidy answered with a furrowed brow and a shrug. “If I’m right, that call is going to ring into a cellphone belonging to someone in this room.”

A stunned silence filled the room for several seconds. Confused expressions covered the faces of most there. Many eyes searched for the face of someone there who understood what Cassidy meant. Dumitra boisterously broke the silence with a look of incredulity.

“So, what! She knows one of our cellphone numbers. This is supposed to be her proof that one of us did these killings?”

All eyes turned back toward Cassidy. She slowly scanned the faces of the occupants in the room, bringing her attention to a stop on Lucian’s face.

“Albert Haynes and Andrew Lantz had one thing in common that caught my attention,” Cassidy began with a fixed stare at Lucian. “They used prepaid cellphones that were only used to call other prepaid cellphones. We were never able to find out who owned those other cellphones. But we did find a pattern. And we found something else.”

Cassidy paused, holding her stare on Lucian before continuing.

“Within the last month before Albert Haynes’ death, he made two calls to a prepaid cellphone that was inside this club. We learned that the cellphone he called couldn’t be tracked because it’s no longer in service, but we did track down the store from where that cellphone was purchased. After that, we collected the metadata records from every cellphone sold from that store over the previous three months.”

Once again Cassidy paused to give weight to her words, and then she continued.

“When we cross matched those call records with Albert Haynes’ phone records, we learned that he made or received calls from two other prepaid phones from that store. We also found a cellphone from that store that’s active now and that has the same metadata pattern. It only makes and receives phone calls from other anonymous prepaid cellphones.”

Cassidy paused again to make sure Lucian understood what she was saying. She then continued to explain.

“And I tracked that cellphone here.”

Cassidy came to a stop and studied Lucian for his reaction. He and the other eighteen vampires in the room were stunned by her report. Eyes shifted back and forth between them. The silence between them lasted for little more than a quarter of a minute, and then Cassidy added a final remark.

“All you have to do is dial that number.”

Lucian looked from Cassidy to the cellphone in his hand. He paused to think about what he was about to do. He was an instant away from initiating the call when Razvan spoke up.

“Think about what you’re doing, Lucian. If what this mortal says is true, then you could undo our alliance with that call. We are all that is left of us. We have come a long way together. Knowing could do more harm than good.”

“I agree,” Sorin spoke up in support. “A warning may be enough to end this behavior.”

There were looks and nods of agreement from most of the vampires. Stefan and Helga appeared decidedly opposed to a mere warning. Radu and Flavia were quick to nod their heads in support of it. Adriana indicated a tacit agreement with a slight nod of her head. Lucian considered Razvan and Sorin’s views a moment

“And doing nothing may convince another that the rules mean nothing. How do we prevent this from happening tomorrow if we don’t enforce the rule today?”

Lucian scanned all the faces in the room to see if they understood his point.

“We made a covenant. We all knew what could happen if we did not abide by it. And we know what we promised to do if anyone broke with this covenant.”

Lucian gave the faces in the room another slow scan and then continued to speak.

“If we do not enforce the covenant, then we run the risk of it being ignored altogether.”

Lucian gave the room another slow scan. Most everyone in the room appeared to be noncommittal either way. Stefan and Helga continued to appear to be in support of enforcing the covenant. David/Cristiãn, Nadja and Petru appeared disinterested in whatever the decision. Cassidy continued to hold her focus on Lucian as she waited for him to press his finger to the cellphone. Several seconds into his examination of the room, Lucian initiated the call.

All ears suddenly listened for the ringing of a cellphone. All eyes searched the room for a reaction by another person. For a long moment, there was silence. Everyone was starting to believe that nothing was going to happen when a faint vibrating sound resounded into the quiet that filled the room. The vibrating pulsated on and off. Soon the eyes and ears furthest from it traced the sound to a general area. Those closes to it turned their eyes to the person the sound was coming from.

“Razvan,” Lucian called out after seeing that he was at the center of everyone’s attention.

For a brief moment, Razvan returned Lucian’s look with a smirk and a scowl. Then he stood and turned his attention to Cassidy.

“I should have broken your neck in that warehouse.”

Dumitra stood up behind his statement and directed her scowl at Cassidy.

“You missed your chance,” Cassidy returned with satisfaction and defiance.

Razvan burned his stare into Cassidy for a couple of seconds before responding to her retort.

“Don’t count on it, Detective.”

There was a moment of silence behind this exchange, and then Lucian spoke.

“Dumitra, you too?”

“The covenant is dead, Lucian,” Dumitra exclaimed with brazen rebellion, “dead like the world we left behind. We should not be restrained by rules from a different era—none of us!”

“We agreed to continue the covenant,” Lucian roared back at her.

“That is before we knew about this time… this world,” Razvan decried.

Razvan stepped around his table and stopped in front of it. Cassidy instinctively moved two steps back. David/Cristiãn took a step forward in her defense. Razvan ignored their movements. He panned his attention across the many faces in the room. Several seconds later, he spoke again.

“The rules have changed. We are no longer limited by an inherited social class. In this time, we can have anything we want—everything we want.”

Razvan paused to blaze a scan around the room.

“This is a time when the market rules all, and we have the ultimate commodity—immortality,” Razvan finished forcefully.

“You’re mad, Razvan,” David/Cristiãn inserted into the conversation with insistence. “You know what will happen. That has not changed.”

“It has changed,” Razvan disputed, suddenly clenching his fist. “There is no controlling us in this time. There is no stopping us.”

“You’re wrong,” Lucian returned with a look of incredulity. “Things will go back to the way they were before. But this time the mortals will turn the world upside down to rid themselves of us.”

“Is that what you’re afraid of, Lucian,” Dumitra challenged coolly. “Or are you afraid of losing your station as the leader of our small band.”

Lucian showed no sign that he was offended by the slight, but Stefan’s passive expression promptly turned into a grimace. Razvan took advantage of the silence that her remark created and turned about to examine everyone in the room.

“This is our time,” Razvan pleaded. “We make the rules. There’s an opportunity here, and we need to seize it.”

Razvan looked around him to see if his passion had roused the other vampires to his side. In most of the faces he saw noncommittal expressions, and in the others, he saw rejection. After a moment of silence, Lucian turned his attention to all in the room with a slow pan and began to speak solemnly.

“Razvan and Dumitra knew the risk and took it. They endangered us all and broke with the covenant that we all agreed to. The covenant is more important than any one or two of us. It has been the means of our survival for more than 100 years before we came to this time. If we do not protect the covenant, we cannot expect it to protect us.”

Lucian paused and scanned the faces of all around, then he made a final declaration.

“I vote for death.”

Seconds after casting his vote, Lucian began to look around the room for the decision of the others. Elisabeta followed the lead of her mate after a look from him. Stefan and Helga were quick to add their votes to the termination column. After these the votes came slower. The remaining thirteen vampires submitted their votes with varied degrees of reluctance, but all acquiesced to the decision of the first four. Razvan and Dumitra took note of the voting with shock.

When the last vote was casted, Lucian turned to Stefan and gave him an instruction with a gesture of his head. Stefan moved over to the stage and picked up a decorative polished red oak case with brass handles—five-feet long by ten-inches wide by five-inches thick—and four matching hinges and two matching latches. He brought the case to Lucian’s table, set it down there and unlatched it. Stefan gently swung open the lid until it was lying flat on the table. Inside, cradled in a black cashmere cushion, was a stainless-steel broadsword with a decorative brass handle. The sight of it provoked instant shock and silence from everyone within the room. After a moment, Razvan spoke up without any sign of distress.

“This is not going to happen.”

“Razvan,” Lucian stressed as he began his retort. “You knew the consequences when you started down this path.”

Dumitra stepped around the table to stand by her mate. Her face was a mask of incensed anger. Several other vampires in the room rose to their feet in response to the heightened tension. Dumitra nervously glanced around to see who among them were prepared to assist Lucian and Stefan in this execution.

“Yes, Lucian,” Razvan softly countered with an undercurrent of defiance. “I knew what the consequence could be. That is why I prepared for this day.”

No one except Dumitra seemed to know what Razvan meant. Everyone looked at him with questioning expressions as they waited for clarification. Their eyes followed his movement as he reached inside his pants pocket and pulled out his smartphone. He held it up for a moment so that all could see it, and then began to speak quite glibly.

“This is my smartphone. I love these things. They can do so many things—hold a thousand songs—movies. It’s a library in your pocket. Oh, and email—I love email.”

“Where are you going with this, Razvan?” Lucian asked with a frown.

“It’s my turn to make a call,” Razvan countered with a smile.

Razvan took a few seconds to negotiate the keypad on his smartphone, then he held it up for all to see once again.

“I’ve just sent an email to all of you,” Razvan announced to the room. “I think you should read it before you do something that you’ll regret.”

Every other vampire in the Cavern’s main room, except Dumitra, was confused by Razvan’s words. Momentarily, each of them retrieved their smartphones to examine the email they had just received. The bustle of movement came to a stop when all of them arrived at the same email with a file attachment. After silently examining the file’s contents, Lucian looked up with a stunned expression.

“What is this?”

“That’s you,” Razvan answered in a casual voice. “That’s all of you,” he continued as he looked around the room. “That is why you’re not going to kill us.”

Lucian looked at the email for a few seconds more, and then he looked up at Razvan with a new question.

“You’ve been keeping files on us?”

“I’ve been compiling files on all of you for more than thirty years,” Razvan answered casually. “You’re looking at those files right now.”

Razvan paused to give weight to his revelation, which brought a shocked silence to the room.

“You’re right, I did know the consequence and I took steps to make sure that when we died, you would all share our fate.”

Razvan paused again and watched as Lucian returned to examining the file attachment that came with the email. He then began to respond to possible questions he suspected Lucian may be contemplating.

“It’s all in there, names, addresses, photos, fingerprints—blood test reports. It’s all in there and it all goes public if we’re not here to stop it.”

Every vampire in the room was shocked to hear Razvan’s words. Another four of their number stood up in response. It was more than a betrayal; it was a threat to the existence of all of them. Every vampire there knew that such a study would expose them to the mortals if it ever went public. They all had at least one previous identity over the course of the past thirty years. And they all knew that their blood had distinct differences from that of mortals.

“I can’t believe you did this,” Lucian complained incredulously.

“You say this even though a minute ago you were ready to cut off our heads,” Dumitra roared back at him with rage.

“We made a pack!” Stefan growled into the debate. “You pledged to abide by the covenant!”

“The covenant is no more, Lucian,” Razvan insisted. “I will no longer be controlled by old rules. We are free of your covenant, Lucian.”

As he continued to speak, Razvan turned about and considered the eyes of every vampire in the room, one after the other.

“We are all free,” Razvan loudly stressed with defiance. “We are Strigoi, and this time—this world is ours to do with as we please. The rules of the past are no longer relevant.”

“You are mad, Razvan,” David/Cristiãn shouted with amazement. “The covenant is more important now than it ever was.”

“Stop whining for these mortals, Cristiãn,” Razvan growled as he turned toward his critic with a glare of rage. “They’re food—not pets.”

“You know what will happen,” David/Cristiãn disputed in a strident voice. “We cannot do this.”

“That was in the past,” Razvan retorted without hesitation. “This is a different time—a different world. Things will be different this time.”

“Yes, they will be worst,” David/Cristiãn argued with a look of wide-eyed amazement. “…much worst.”

“I agree,” Lucian bellowed into the debate. “Sooner or later the mortals will turn on us.”

“By then it will be too late,” Razvan countered with confidence.

Lucian had no immediate response to his words, nor did anyone else in the room. They all knew what Razvan meant by that statement, and none of them could be sure he was wrong in his assessment. Cassidy watched and listened to their debate with interest. She had no idea what the logic was behind most of their remarks, but she was eager to learn what was meant by them. She hoped that the discussion would continue, but the prolonged silence that followed Razvan’s last remark suggested an end was near.

“Who’s with us?” Razvan questioned all within the room.

There were shrugs and glances in response to his query, but no one stepped forward. Razvan briefly waited for someone to respond, then he turned his attention to Lucian.

“Now what, Lucian? What will you do?”

Lucian gave his question some thought. He examined the expressions of everyone there and noted that they were waiting on his reply. He glanced momentarily at his cellphone, then he looked at Razvan as he spoke.

“Don’t do this, Razvan. This behavior endangers us all.”

“I am Strigoi!” Razvan declared with defiance and relief. “I will no longer suppress what I was meant to be.”

There were expressions of relief by some, rage by some and indifference by others. Lucian held an angry stare on Razvan, then he matched his temperament.

“Get out, Razvan!”

A look of relief quickly spread across Dumitra’s face. She looked to Razvan with a faint smile on her face, and then she took his arm as she proceeded to leave.

“Let’s go.”

Razvan held his ground despite Dumitra’s urging. He casually turned his eyes to Cristiãn and held them there. Then he turned his eyes on Cassidy.

“She comes with me,” Razvan announced to the surprise of most and David’s/Cristiãn’s shock.

His demand took Cassidy by surprise and propelled her into wide-eyed shock, and Dumitra was nearly as surprised as she. Why her mate wanted to take Cassidy with them was a mystery to her.

“She’s not going anywhere with you,” David/Cristiãn proclaimed unconditionally.

Razvan was unimpressed by David’s/Cristiãn’s refusal to let Cassidy leave with him. He gave David/Cristiãn an indifferent glance and then turned his attention to Lucian.

“Detective Tremaine comes with me,” Razvan spoke with gentle insistence.

“Why? What do you want with her?” Lucian queried back.

“It’s not happening,” David/Cristiãn instantly countermanded.

Razvan ignored David’s/Cristiãn’s remark and kept his attention focused on Lucian as he responded to his query.

“I have a use for her.”

“And why should I care?” Lucian countered angrily.

“If I fail in my felonious pastimes… if I get caught or killed, it will come back on all of you. I need her to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“Like I said, she’s not going anywhere with you,” David/Cristiãn roared into the discourse.

Lucian turned his head and looked at Cassidy as he considered Razvan’s request.

“I will… take care of her when I’m done,” Razvan delicately said to answer the question he suspected Lucian was thinking.

“You’re not taking her,” David/Cristiãn grumbled with anger.

Razvan kept his attention on Lucian as he waited for his answer. After several seconds of consideration, he gave Razvan a go-ahead nod.

“No!” David/Cristiãn roared while rushing toward Cassidy’s side.

In that same instant, Lucian lunged forward to intercept Cristiãn, ramming into his chest and bringing him to a sudden stop. Lucian’s proximity to Cassidy made his intercept an easy maneuver. David/Cristiãn shoved Lucian aside with some effort and started toward Cassidy again, but before he could reach her, Stefan rammed into him from his left. With Lucian’s help, they forced Cristiãn off course. The three of them tumbled onto and over the two tables Lucian had occupied. Elisabeta and Helga quickly backed away from the scuffle and the sudden flow of tumbling tables and chairs.

Petru quickly stood up to come to David’s/Cristiãn’s aid but drew back when Eugen and Sorin stood up in response to his action. David/Cristiãn continued to struggle and twisted away from Lucian and Stefan’s restraining grasps. Before he could extricate himself, Augustus, the largest of all the vampires there, dove into the fray and helped Lucian and Stefan pin him to the floor. David/Cristiãn continued to squirm under their restraints while repeatedly calling out, “let me go.”

“You’re with me,” Dumitra spoke with a smile as she stepped over to confront Cassidy.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Cassidy declared, taking a step back.

Cassidy prepared herself for a fight. She looked to Nadja and Petru to see if they were going to assist her or David/Cristiãn. They appeared uncommitted to any plan of action. As Cassidy turned her attention back to Dumitra, she began to lose all awareness of the here and now.

“Razvan!” David/Cristiãn yelled with rage from his pinned position on the floor. “Don’t do this.”

Razvan only looked at David/Cristiãn then turned and started for the vestibule and the front entrance. Dumitra followed him with a mindless Cassidy by her side, guided along with a gentle tug of her arm. When Razvan stepped into the vestibule entryway, David/Cristiãn called after him with fury in his voice.

“Razvan, if you hurt her, I’ll tear your head off your shoulders.”

Razvan allowed Dumitra and Cassidy to precede him, then he looked back for a moment at Lucian, Stefan, Augustus and David/Cristiãn’s tangled bodies. Several seconds later, he turned and followed Dumitra and Cassidy into the vestibule.


	20. Dangling the Bait

They were in the vestibule of the Cavern nightclub when Razvan stepped over and took Cassidy by the arm. 

“Get the car,” Razvan directed Dumitra as he extended the keys to her.

Dumitra accepted the keys and hurried out of the nightclub. Razvan waited inside the vestibule with Cassidy. Razvan instinctively knew how important it was to get her inside the car quickly. The fresh air outside would surely wash away her trance if given enough time. Experience told him that the close confinement of the car’s interior would make it easy for him to control her.

The car that Razvan and Dumitra arrived in was nearly a block down the street. It took Dumitra a minute to get to it and half of that to get it moving down the street. She stopped in the street outside the front entrance to the club, unlocked the car doors and honked the horn. Razvan immediately came out of the front entrance with Cassidy in tow. He quickly ushered a confused Cassidy over to the vehicle and into the backseat. He then slid in beside her and closed the door. Dumitra drove the car away from The Cavern as soon as the door was shut.

Cassidy remained in a deep trance throughout the transfer. Her stare was fixed and her posture rigid. Shortly after the car began to move, Razvan leaned over and whispered the word “sleep” into Cassidy’s ear and she immediately reclined limply into her seat and slept.

“What did we bring her for?” Dumitra queried as she drove. “Cristiãn will blame us for her death now.”

“He was going to blame us anyway,” Razvan disputed.

“But you don’t know that they were going to kill her,” Dumitra countered as she glanced into the rear-view mirror.

“Be smarter than that, Dumitra,” Razvan argued gruffly. “She tracked us here despite Cristiãn’s efforts to turn her away. Lucian was not going to risk all their lives on the hope that this policewoman could be kept in the dark. Cristiãn’s plan to save her was an improbable dream.”

Dumitra took some affront from Razvan’s harsh response, but she allowed the feeling to bleed away across a short span of time and with a few deep breaths. 

“I still don’t understand why you brought her.” Dumitra said blandly.

“She’s bait,” Razvan explained succinctly.

Dumitra took a moment to think about Razvan’s reply. She soon understood what he meant, but Razvan began to qualify the statement before she could respond.

“Cristiãn will come after us no matter what the others decide. With Detective Tremaine, I can control the when, and the where.”

“If we kill Cristiãn, Nadja and Petru will come after us for sure,” Dumitra blurted out with a look of shock.

“We may not have to,” Razvan cunningly responded and with an introspective gaze. 

“You’re going to try and recruit him,” Dumitra blurted out with sudden awareness.

“If I can,” Razvan agreed.

“And what if he doesn’t agree to join us?” Dumitra queried suggestively.

“Then we will do what we must,” Razvan grumbled defiantly.

This explanation removed Dumitra’s misgivings about taking Cassidy with them. Up until that moment, she had not considered the danger that Cristiãn represented to them. Razvan’s explanation made it clear to her just how much of a danger he could be. It suddenly felt reasonable to her that they take steps to deal with this threat now that they had the upper hand. It was not an easy decision. Cristiãn, like all the Dacia Vampires, was like a relative that she infrequently visited but still felt at ease with. But that kinship did not override her belief that it was either him or them.

The car ride went on in silence for the next few minutes. Dumitra had no more questions to ask of Razvan, and he had nothing more to tell. She fixed her concentration on steering the car. They both knew where they were going. As Dumitra drove, Razvan kept watch out the rear window. He feared that Cristiãn would pursue them. Nearly five minutes into their transit, he became convinced that he could relax some. He felt that if Cristiãn was in pursuit of them, then he would have seen him by this time. So now, he had the confidence to begin acting on his plan.

“What are you doing?” Dumitra inquired as she examined Razvan through the rear-view mirror.

Razvan had just pulled his cellphone from his suitcoat pocket and started dialing when Dumitra questioned him.

“I’m sending Cristiãn a text,” Razvan explained.

“Already?” Dumitra questioned with surprise.

“We don’t have unlimited time on this,” Razvan explained. “It won’t be long before someone starts missing Detective Tremaine.”

Dumitra gave his answer a moment of thought before blurting out the thought that popped into her mind.

“You can’t tell him where we’re going.”

Razvan ignored the comment as he continued to text his message.

~~~~~line break~~~~~

“Let go of me,” Cristiãn commanded as he struggled against Lucian, Augustus and Stefan’s restraining arms.

Cristiãn had been pinned to the floor for nearly three minutes. Nadja and Petru watched as he struggled to free himself, but they gave no assistance. The remaining twelve vampires were standing about in the middle of the U formation of tables. They alternated their attentions between Cristiãn’s struggle and Razvan’s exit from the club, but they did nothing to change either event. When Razvan and Cassidy left the club, they turned their full attentions to Cristiãn.

“Let him go,” Lucian instructed as he got up off his knees.

Stefan and Augustus followed Lucian’s command and simultaneously released Cristiãn. They quickly stood up and backed away from him. All eyes went to Cristiãn. They were eager to see what he would do now that Cassidy was gone.

“Get out!” Cristiãn demanded an instant after he got to his feet.

Lucian stepped over and confronted Cristiãn, glaring at him with imperious defiance. Augustus and Stefan took up positions immediately behind Cristiãn.

“Be careful, Cristiãn” Lucian advised coldly. 

“I want you out of my club,” Cristiãn declared with less belligerence. 

“Cristiãn,” Nadja called out in a pleading voice.

Nadja did not know what would happen if her brother continued to blatantly challenge Lucian to his face. She feared that half or more of their numbers were interpreting his actions as a threat to the whole. If this were true, she knew that a life-or-death vote could go against him.

“I’m going after her,” Cristiãn roared back at his sister.

“We’re all staying here until I say we leave,” Lucian ordered with finality.

Cristiãn said nothing as he stood scowling at Lucian. He knew that there was no chance of him fighting his way out. He also understood the reason for Nadja’s plea. He began to relax his defiant stance as his understanding became clearer in his own mind.

“Cristiãn, there’s nothing you can do,” Nadja implored with grave concern. “She’s gone; let her go.”

Cristiãn gave his sister a dejected look after hearing her words. He knew that any chance he had of following Razvan had faded. He desperately wanted to escape to his car so that he could pursue Razvan, but he was restrained by a consequence that he feared would come to pass. He knew that any effort to leave forcibly was not only futile but could endanger his continuing existence as well as that of sister and her mate. He knew that Nadja would fight for his life at the risk of her own.

Shortly, Lucian recognized Cristiãn’s resignation to the inevitable. He saw Cristiãn accept that Cassidy was too long gone for him to save her. It seemed extremely unlikely to Lucian that Razvan would take Cassidy to his home, and he suspected that Cristiãn would have realized that too. When Cristiãn turned his eyes down to the floor, Lucian felt the storm had passed and that it was okay to change the subject to the problem of Razvan and Dumitra.

“Cristiãn, it’s over,” Lucian put forth softly. “I need you to tell me that you understand that.”

“You should not have let him take her,” Cristiãn fumed in reply.

“Did you really think we were going to let her live,” Lucian returned with a look of incredulity. “She wasn’t even supposed to be here. Detective Tremaine has proven herself to be too much of a threat.”

“Lucian, we foreswore the killing of mortals,” Cristiãn challenged sharply.

Lucian took a step forward and gave Cristiãn a scowl.

“She was a danger to us all, Cristiãn.”

Cristiãn returned Lucian’s scowl with a look of anguish for several silent seconds.

“I could have protected us,” Cristiãn said despondently. “Isn’t that why we came together—to police ourselves and to protect mortals from beings like us?”

“We came together because that’s what we had to do to survive,” Lucian railed back at Cristiãn. “Mortals come and go. You know that. They wither and die. That is the truth of their existence. You can’t get attached to them.”

“Cassidy Tremaine was not in the twilight of her life,” Cristiãn roared back. “She has a family—children. Are we so special that mortals are insignificant by comparison? Is that what we have become—human overlords?”

“That is who we must be if we are to survive,” Lucian shouted. “We are immortals. By that fact alone, we are more than they. And so long as they are a threat to us, we must do what we must.”

“How divine we are?” Cristiãn returned with sarcasm and conciliation in his tone. “Immortality has given us the power to subsist off our inferiors like parasites.”

Lucian fumed while holding an angry stare on Cristiãn for several seconds, and then he softened his tone.

“We have to put this behind us,” Lucian insisted as he extended his hand. “I need to know that you will harbor no resentment toward us because of this mortal.”

Cristiãn stared with melancholy into Lucian’s face, then looked down at his hand with resentment and defeat. Shortly, he looked at Nadja; her face expressed a hope that he would accept Lucian’s hand. He then turned back to look at Lucian and took his hand.

“This includes Razvan and Dumitra,” Lucian declared while shaking Cristiãn’s hand. “There can be no retribution.”

Cristiãn instantly snatched his hand away with shock and anger on his face.

“You are mad, Lucian. I will never forgive them.”

“This has nothing to do with forgiveness,” Lucian returned. “This is a situation that concerns all of us.”

“They broke the covenant,” Cristiãn argued. “They have forfeited any right to your protection.”

“They are Strigoi,” Lucian declared forcefully. “They cannot be sanctioned for termination without a group vote.”

“A little while ago you were ready to kill them,” Cristiãn railed.

“That was then,” Lucian roared. “You cannot go after them.”

“I will have their…”

“Cristiãn!” Nadja shouted before her brother could complete his statement.

Cristiãn looked at his sister. Her face was a mask of terror. He knew exactly what she was thinking—that Lucian was considering if he should live or die. As he deliberated, he heard Sorin speaking to him.

“Cristiãn, if you’re not going to consider the group, then think of your sister.”

Cristiãn turned and slowly scanned the faces of everyone looking at him. Lucian took that moment to speak again.

“You need to convince us that you’re not going after Razvan and Dumitra.”

Cristiãn paused to consider that request. He thought it very likely that Lucian would call for a vote for his death if he did not agree. And he believed there was a 50/50 chance that he would survive the vote. He saw Stefan and Augustus positioning themselves to carry out the execution.

Despite the 50% probability, Cristiãn was reluctant to say the words. At that moment, what he wanted more than anything was Razvan’s head in his hands. After a few seconds, a feeling of defiance welled up in his chest like a burst of energy. The bloom of that defiance reached the tip of his tongue within seconds, and just as suddenly it subsided. He looked to Nadja and Petru and saw in them what he valued more than his own life. He feared that they would come to his aid and suffer the same fate. After a few seconds of thought, he looked at Lucian with a disheartened expression.

“I won’t put my sister at risk. You have my word.”

Lucian studied Cristiãn long and hard. He searched for signs of deception, and then he examined the other faces in the room. He suspected that any vote calling for Cristiãn death now would fall short. Nadja and Petru’s votes would be an automatic no. And he suspected that Cristiãn’s verbal concession had won over three or four others. To avoid exposing a split, Lucian chose to accept his reply.

“Okay, Cristiãn,” Lucian began with a stern face. “I will take you at your word, but don’t make us regret it. Because if we do, we will not forgive, and we will not forget.”

Everyone feared that Cristiãn was lying. They had this concern because exposure only meant that their comfortable existence within their own homes would change to a life of being perpetually on the run. Hiding was something they did far better than any mortal had yet to imagine, and their six decades of familiarity with this age provided them the wherewithal to be elusive in this time. Consequently, the danger that came with their exposure was not an automatic death sentence for any of them. This fact gave several of them cause to doubt that Cristiãn would keep his word, even to protect Nadja. Only Cristiãn knew for sure that his promise was indeed a lie.

“So, what do we do about Razvan?” Stefan asked after a prolonged silence.

Everyone was standing about in the center of the U formation of tables when they turned their eyes to Stefan and his question.

“While he has these files,” Lucian answered, “there’s nothing we can do.”

Cristiãn instantly threw up his hands in bewilderment after Lucian’s reply.

“Then what are we doing here?” Cristiãn questioned, completely bewildered. “The inquisition is over. We know who did the killings. Our business here is finished.”

“No, it’s not,” Lucian countermanded in a monotoned voice. “We have to discuss this.”

Cristiãn suspected Lucian’s reason for keeping him there: he wanted Razvan and Dumitra well away. They all knew that Razvan was not going to take Cassidy back to his home, and none of them had any idea where they would go. It was clear to everyone that Cristiãn had no chance to intercede on Cassidy’s behalf.

“Discuss what?” Cristiãn returned with irritation. “Razvan and Dumitra have made their escape. We now have no chance of stopping them from executing their plans.”

Lucian glanced about the room with a bland expression.

“I know that, Cristiãn,” Lucian responded in an annoyed tone. “But we do need to discuss how we are to proceed.”

Cristiãn knew that it was a valid subject of discussion, but he also knew it was a waste of time. He expected nothing of significance to be said and nothing of merit to be concluded, but he resigned himself to the inevitable.

“Okay talk,” Cristiãn returned dejectedly.

Cristiãn wore frustration on his face for all to see. He had given up hope of catching Razvan and Dumitra; it was far too late for that. He knew calling them on the phone was the only chance left to him. His plan was to threaten Razvan to the point of intimidation. He knew this meeting would delay his last meager plan by an hour or more. At that moment, he could only hope that Razvan would not harm her before he could make the call.

Almost immediately, talk of a likely breakup of their vampire union became the topic of the group’s discussion. From the start, Lucian, Elisabeta, Stefan and Helga were strongly in favor of maintaining the rule of the majority. The others were undecided. Two minutes into their talks a contentious split emerged on how they should proceed. Five of the seventeen vampires strongly believed that they should trash the covenant that they had made with each other centuries ago. Their position was based on the fact that Razvan and Dumitra’s withdrawal from the union made the rules obsolete. Lucian, Elisabeta, Stefan, Helga, Augustus and Alina were strongly opposed to abandoning the covenant. Cristiãn, Nadja and Petru were in support of keeping the covenant but with far less vehemence. The two sides argued their positions to the exclusion of all other business.

Cristiãn, Nadja, Petru, Adriana and Sorin stood together on the outer rim of this debate. About five-minute into the fray, Cristiãn’s cell phone began to vibrate. Everyone near him heard the throbbing sound inside his suitcoat pocket. Cristiãn reluctantly pulled the distraction from his pocket. He activated the cellphone and read the text message with complete surprise.

“Something wrong?” Adriana asked.

Cristiãn momentarily ignored her question as he reread the text for a second and third time.

“No, nothing’s wrong,” Cristiãn halfheartedly assured without looking up from his cell phone.

As Cristiãn pocketed his cellphone, he lowered his gaze to the floor. He pondered the purpose behind Razvan’s message. When he looked up, he saw Adriana, Sorin, Nadja and Petru examining him.

“A supplier,” Cristiãn dismissed nonchalantly. “He’s reneging on his delivery date. It’s not a problem.” 

Adriana and Sorin accepted Cristiãn’s answer without doubt. Nadja was suspicious because of his distracted expression. Petru knew it was a lie because of their sympathetic pheromone connection. Cristiãn looked at his sister and brother-in-law with concern. A moment later, he turned and set off to correct the overturned tables and chairs and collect the broken dishes, silverware and scattered raw meat on the floor.

“Where are you going?” Lucian questioned sharply.

All communication stopped as all eyes turned to Cristiãn. He stopped and turned to face Lucian.

“This discussion is getting a little long. And since it doesn’t appear to be winding down,” Cristian stated with ample sarcasm, “I thought I should fulfill my duties as host.”

Lucian knew there was a rear exit to the club. He feared Cristiãn would make use of it, and his answer did little to dissuade him from that concern. But he also knew that Razvan and Dumitra were well away. He concluded that now was a good opportunity to learn if Cristiãn was going to be true to his word. He thought it better to find out now while they were all still in the city rather than later when they were gone.

“Okay,” Lucian acknowledged after a moment of thought.

Lucian watched as Cristiãn set himself to the task of righting tables and chairs. Shortly, he turned his attention back to the discussion; everyone followed his lead except Nadja and Petru. They kept Cristiãn’s every move fixed in the corner of their eyes. After he finished righting the tables and chairs, they watched as he walked back to the kitchen doors and disappeared behind them.

When Cristiãn reached the seclusion of the kitchen, his passive demeanor quickly changed into that of a man in a hurry. He raced over to the spice cupboard, flung open the doors and searched through the large selection of herbs and seasonings. After a prolonged search, he found the seasoning he was looking for. He quickly took it over to the kitchen’s center island and set it down, then pulled a fold top sandwich bag from a spool inside another cabinet and brought it back to the center island.

Cristiãn poured the seasoning into the sandwich bag as delicately as he could. The small amount of powder that floated up from the bag instantly made him cough and gag and make his eyes begin to water. Despite his reactions, he suffered through the task and was done in a matter of seconds. When he finished, he had just enough seasoning in the sandwich bag to fill one-fourth of a small saltshaker. He quickly closed the bag and the bottle, returned the bottle back to the cupboard and stuffed the sandwich bag into a small cellphone pocket in the lower left lining of his suit coat. 

The sound of Cristiãn’s movements in the adjacent room was indiscernible over the multiple conversations occurring in the dining area. At first Lucian ignored this silence from the kitchen, but concern began to intensify two minutes into it. He was another minute away from going into the kitchen to search him out when Cristiãn walked back into the room.

Cristiãn came back into the main room of the club with a large tray in one hand and a towel in the other. When he got back to the spill area, he began to pile the broken plates, glasses, silverware and bits of raw meat on top of the tray. His activity was of no interest to anyone there except Nadja and Petru. While everyone else ignored him, Nadja and Petru watched him with surreptitious glances. During one such look, Nadja saw Cristiãn put something on the tray that was not supposed to go there. Petru was less interested in what he saw. The pheromones coming off Cristiãn’s body told him that he was actively working a deception. He also noted from Nadja’s pheromones that she had just caught sight of something. He promptly shifted his gaze to her, and she returned his look with concern.

“Is something wrong?” Sorin asked Nadja.

“No, no,” Nadja quickly responded, shaking her head. “I’m just wondering where this is all leading to.”

“I think it’s going to end badly,” Adriana expressed with a dismayed shake of her head.

Instinctively, Nadja turned her attention back toward the debate to give cover to her brother. Adriana and Sorin followed her lead. As Nadja redirected Adriana and Sorin’s attentions, Cristiãn began wiping up the wet spots on the floor with the towel. When he had finished, he stood up and set off for the kitchen with the tray on top of his hand and the towel draped over the top of it. By this time, the diverging positions of the main group of vampires had turned into a shouting match. It was under the cover of this verbal contest that Cristiãn had gathered up Cassidy’s gun and cellphone, then slipped away to the kitchen.

Nadja and Petru were the only ones to see him leave the room. They helped him in his escape by saying nothing as he moved away. He was also helped by the expectations of the others that he would be the last to leave the club. They expected him to lock up when they left. Cristiãn was counting on that expectation to give him the time he needed.

When Cristiãn was back inside the kitchen, he set the tray on a counter, pocketed Cassidy’s cellphone and gun, then he hurried over to the rear entrance to the club. He quietly unlocked the door and slipped out into the alleyway behind The Cavern. After quietly closing the door behind himself, Cristiãn hurried around to the front of the club and hurried to his car. Shortly he was inside his car and racing down the street. As he drove, Cristiãn took his cellphone out from his breast pocket and read the text again.

_Call me if you want to see your girlfriend alive._

After reading the text for the second time, Cristiãn accessed the cellphone app and dialed Razvan.

“Where are you?” Razvan questioned in place of a greeting.

“I’m in Manhattan—I’m in my car,” Cristiãn responded tersely. “Where is she?”

“Are you alone?” Razvan asked without thought for Cristiãn’s inquiry.

“Yes, I’m alone,” Cristiãn answered with insistence. “Now tell me, where have you taken Cassidy?”

Once again Razvan ignored Cristiãn’s question in favor of the instructions he wanted to relay.

“There’s a Quik Park on North Third Street and Kent Avenue in Brooklyn. Park your car and wait on the southeast corner of Third and River.”

For a moment, nothing else was said. Cristiãn concluded that none of his questions were going to be answered over the phone. Razvan waited to hear Cristiãn’s agreement to his instructions. When it became clear that he was not going to say anything, Razvan finished with his closing remark.

“And Cristiãn, be alone.”


	21. Taking the Bait

Cristiãn heard the click as Razvan disconnected the call. He put his cellphone down and accelerated his car, heading to the location that Razvan gave. He soon began receiving phone calls from Nadja and Lucian. Cristiãn ignored their calls as he hurried to his destination. It took him twenty minutes to get to the garage. He promptly parked his car and stowed Cassidy’s gun and cellphone in the glove compartment then set off on foot for the intersection Razvan directed him to.

Cristiãn waited on the southeast corner of Third Street and River Avenue as instructed. He was there for little more than a minute when he received another call from Lucian. Without greeting or hesitation, he answered and spoke his mind.

“Things are going to change, Lucian” Cristiãn advised somberly. “You need to prepare yourselves.”

Cristiãn listened briefly to Lucian’s wrath before laying down his last words.

“I’m doing what I must. You need to start hiding—all of you.”

Before Lucian could respond, Cristiãn disconnected the call. Two more calls vibrated in his hand over the next three minutes. Shortly after the second one, Cristiãn watched a black four door Buick La Crosse turn onto River Street and roll forward at an unhurried pace. The side and rear windows were heavily tinted. Cristiãn saw two men sitting in the front seats as the car pulled up to him and stopped. The passenger window rolled down, and a man that Cristiãn had never seen before looked out at him.

“Get in,” the man said gruffly.

Cristiãn examined the man for a moment with a suspicious stare. He was thin with a scarred and pot marked face. Cristiãn perceived him as a man of minimal education and a possible violent felon. From what he could see of the driver, he appeared to have less distinctive features but physically more impressive.

“Who are you?” Cristiãn challenged.

“Pritchard sent me,” the man in the front passenger seat reported with a scowl. “Get in.”

Cristiãn needed to hear no more than Razvan’s fake name that he used in the mortal world. He opened the back door to the sedan and climbed in. As soon as he had seated himself, his phone began to vibrate. The man in the front passenger seat turned and looked back at Cristiãn in response to the sound.

“What’s that in your hand?” The man asked.

“It’s my cellphone,” Cristiãn answered as he held it up. “I was expecting a call from Razvan.”

“Who?” The man asked as he took the cellphone from Cristiãn.

“Pritchard.”

The man in the front passenger examined the cellphone then pressed and held the power button until the phone turned off. After that, he put the cellphone in his coat pocket and began to scrutinize Cristiãn as he barked orders.

“Open your coat.”

“Pull up your pant legs.”

“Turn around… Put your knees up on the seat.”

Cristiãn complied with the orders so that the man could search him for weapons beneath his clothing.

“You carrying?” The man in the front passenger seat asked just as he finished his frisk.

“No, I don’t have a weapon,” Cristiãn answered with exasperation. “Let’s go,” he insisted while returning to a face forward seated position.

The man scowled, then tossed a black cloth bag back to Cristiãn.

“Put this over your head.”

Cristiãn hesitated long enough to return the look of enmity, and then he pulled the bag over his head. Seconds later, the car pulled off. The ride lasted just under five minutes. When it came to its final stop, Cristiãn heard an overhead door roll down behind him. Once the rolling door slammed shut, the car’s front doors opened. Cristiãn felt the car rock as the two men climbed out. The driver’s door immediately slammed shut after the rocking stopped.

“Keep that over your head and don’t move,” the man from the front passenger seat called back to Cristiãn.

The front passenger door slammed shut after that directive. Cristiãn heard their movements and maybe that of two others. The sound of their movements echoed in the space around the car. It did not sound like a very large space. A few seconds later, Cristiãn heard a door open and the sound of another person walk across the enclosure. He heard the new man come to a stop near the car and speak to the two men from the car. Nearly a minute later, the rear door on Cristiãn’s side opened. 

“Get out,” the man from the front passenger seat ordered.

Cristiãn climbed out of the car while still wearing the black hood. Despite the head-covering, the fumes of gasoline and oil filled his nostrils. The movement of people and the intermittent whirring sound of an air impact wrench reverberated off the walls. He guessed that he was in an automotive repair shop. Cristiãn could hear the two men from the car standing several feet to either side of him and the third man was heard shuffling about in front of him a few feet off. Cristiãn knew by the sound of his voice that he was not Razvan.

“Bring him,” the third man instructed.

Almost immediately, Cristiãn felt the two men from the car grab him by his arms and nudge him forward. He could hear that they were following the third man. A few seconds later, he heard a door open and he inhaled fresh air. His guards ushered him through the door behind the third man. On the other side of the door, he sensed that he was in a cramped area. His guards walked slightly behind him as they maintain a hold on his arms. They walked about ten more yards before he was ushered through another door. Cristiãn could feel that he had just entered another small structure; these walls seemed to absorb sound. 

“We’re going down some stairs,” the third man advised.

Cristiãn took some comfort from his warning. It gave him hope that there was no immediate plan to do him harm, but he had no doubts about Razvan’s plans.

They descended a narrow and musty staircase that came to a landing halfway down then continued in the opposite direction. Just as they reached the bottom, Cristiãn heard the third man grunt as he tugged to open a creaking door. The walls on this level felt hard and cold—clearly concrete. He believed he had been led into a basement. After stepping through the doorway, Cristiãn heard the door slam shut followed by the sound of a deadbolt lock sliding into place.

Cristiãn caught the sound of one or more individuals in the room after the door was closed behind him. He clearly heard someone moving a dozen or more feet off to his left. He could not tell if it was one or more persons. Near that same area, he heard the whir of a small machine and detected the acrid smell of chemicals thick in the air. There was also the barely noticeable sound of feet shuffling ahead of him on his right a couple of times. 

“Here he is,” the third man announced from several feet in front of Cristiãn.

Cristiãn heard his two guards step out wide and two steps ahead of him. He heard the footsteps of another person coming toward him a little off his right. This person stopped directly in front of him then pulled the hood off his head.

“I apologize for the precautions,” Razvan said as soon as he removed Cristiãn’s hood.

Razvan gestured toward his armed associates. The driver had a double-barreled, sawed-off shotgun pointed up at the ceiling and resting against his shoulder. The man from the front passenger seat was armed with a semi-automatic pistol directed down toward the floor. A large rectangular section of the room’s center was enclosed behind clear plastic industrial curtains. Within the enclosure were two tables pushed together end-to-end about five yards ahead and to the left of Cristiãn. The tables were long enough to accommodate ten chairs, if chairs had been provided. Two men wearing chemical aprons, rubber gloves and eye protection were seated on stools working opposite each other at the far end of the table away from the door. The table held a large assortment of laboratory equipment complete with a burner and an open flame. The other end of the table nearest to the door had a slightly similar grouping of equipment. It appeared to Cristiãn as though they were standing in the middle of a chemistry experiment—boxes and barrels stacked along the perimeter of the room, and no windows. The only illumination came from a string of four overhead lamps.

“Where is she, Razvan?” Cristiãn demanded without regard for his apology.

The third man was surprised to hear Cristiãn use his vampire name and turned to Razvan with a surprised expression. 

“He’s one of you?” the third man questioned.

Razvan smiled at the third man.

“Yes Tony, he is.”

Razvan held Tony’s gaze as he gestured to Cristiãn with his hand.

“Tony McGuire, I would like you to meet Cristiãn Domitius Norbanus.”

Tony McGuire was a middle-aged man wearing a gray suit. He was slightly above average in height and looked like a powerful man even though his athletic physique was long gone. He stared at Cristiãn with wide-eyed surprise.

“I didn’t come here to socialize, Razvan. Where is Cassidy?” Cristiãn bellowed while ignoring Tony McGuire’s examination.

“Don’t worry, Cristiãn,” Razvan responded nonchalantly. “She’s fine.”

Razvan turned his attention to the guard with Cristiãn’s cellphone extended out to him. 

“His cellphone,” Tony reported. “He didn’t have any weapons.”

“He is the weapon,” Razvan warned as he took the cellphone. “Don’t let his pretty boy looks throw you off your guard.”

In response to that warning, the man from the driver’s seat brought his shotgun off his shoulder and directed the twin barrels at Cristiãn. The other man aimed his handgun at Cristiãn as well. Razvan gave Cristiãn’s cellphone a quick look then handed it back to him.

“Come on,” Razvan said to Cristiãn with a gesture toward the door at the right end of the basement.

Cristiãn followed Razvan through the doorway and into a narrow room that extended across the width of the basement. The room was set up like a small office. It was illuminated by a single light bulb in a ceiling fixture at the center of the room. Cassidy was seated in a chair along the wall furthest from the door. Dumitra stood guard next to her. Cristiãn’s full attention snapped onto Cassidy as he entered the room. She returned his gaze while quickly rising from her chair. A few seconds later, they were facing each other about a half dozen feet apart.

“Are you okay?” Cristiãn asked with a worried stare.

Cassidy was hesitant to respond. She did not know how she should feel or act about his being there. She stared at him for several seconds with a frightened expression. The two gunmen took up positions on opposite sides of the room close to the door with their weapons ready.

“Yeah,” Cassidy whispered with a slight nod.

“See, I told you,” Razvan chimed in with a smile. “Not a hair out of place.”

Cristiãn turned his attention sharply on Razvan and glowered.

“What do you want, Razvan?”

“We want you,” Dumitra responded on Razvan’s behalf.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cristiãn asked with a frown.

“The majority rule bit is over,” Razvan explained pleasantly. “We’re on our own now.”

“What are you saying, Razvan?” Cristiãn demanded impatiently. “Spit it out.”

Razvan smile mischievously then attempted to speak earnestly.

“I want you to join us.”

“Join you?” Cristiãn returned incredulously.

“The others will follow if you side with us,” Razvan explained with insistence. “How could this be wrong if Cristiãn is in on it?”

“This won’t end well,” Cristiãn argued. “You know that. These mortals will come after us with more than just dogs and wooden stakes.”

“You don’t get it,” Razvan returned with defiance. “This is a different world, Cristiãn. Twelve-hundred years ago, we were living off droppings from peasants. In this time, we can be the kings.”

“Join us, Cristiãn,” Dumitra pleaded.

“You’re going to make more of us,” Cristiãn realized with astonishment.

“And why shouldn’t we?” Razvan asked with a palm up gesture. “We have what all mortals want, and they will give us all that they have to get it.”

“You’re both mad,” Cristiãn declared with a stern look. “You’ll create chaos on an unimaginable scale.”

“We’re vampires, Cristiãn,” Razvan declared. “We thrive on chaos.”

Cristiãn was surprised to hear Razvan identify himself as a vampire in front of the mortals. He quickly studied the faces of the two gunmen to see if they were shocked by his admission. Both took the statement without surprise or change of expression. He could tell from their smell that they were mortal, but their awareness of Razvan and Dumitra’s true identity made him consider the possibility that other associates of theirs may have already been turned.

“Have you turned any mortals?” Cristiãn demanded of Razvan.

“Not yet,” Razvan answered. “But now that we are unfettered by a covenant, we have nothing to stop us.” 

Cristiãn shook his head and pondered the idea for a moment.

“I won’t be a part of this.”

“Not even for her?” Dumitra asked, nodding toward Cassidy.

Cristiãn quickly turned a fierce look on Dumitra before challenging her statement.

“What does that mean?”

“Lucian was going to kill her,” Razvan began to explain. “You know that.”

“I would have convinced him to leave her to me,” Cristiãn sharply countered.

“That might have worked yesterday,” Razvan disputed. “But that option disappeared when she showed up at the inquisition.”

“Cristiãn, you know what will happen if we release her to you,” Dumitra insisted.

“And how will joining you change that?” Cristiãn challenged.

“Turn her,” Dumitra explained in two words.

Cristiãn and Cassidy looked at each other in wide-eyed horror.

“The others would never have given you the okay to do that,” Dumitra explained hopefully. “But we’re giving it to you now.”

Cristiãn was dumbfounded by the very idea and could think of no response for several seconds. 

“You know I can’t do that.”

“And I can’t let her go,” Razvan insisted.

“We lose all control if I turn her,” Cristiãn argued the obvious. “How can that work to your advantage?”

“Cristiãn, one way or another, she’s staying here,” Razvan declared and pointed to a large chest freezer stationed along the wall opposite from the door.

Razvan’s meaning quickly became clear. From the beginning, Cristiãn had assumed the freezer was there for the basement’s chemistry lab. Now he understood that their plan was to lock Cassidy inside after turning her. As a newborn vampire, the chest would be an ideal tomb for her. The process of dying and resurrecting would leave her too weak to escape it. Her weakened condition would stay in effect until she fed for the first time. And with no way of acquiring her first meal, her body would have no recourse but to go dormant and sleep away the time.

“That’s not happening,” Cristiãn declared, looking astonished.

“Be reasonable, Cristiãn,” Dumitra implored. “We can’t let her go. In fifty years, it won’t matter what she knows.”

“Fifty years?” Cassidy blurted out with a look of fear and astonishment.

“What’s going to change in fifty years?” Cristiãn asked.

“We’re going to own this world,” Razvan answered with a trace of elation.

“Join us, Cristiãn,” Dumitra beseeched with excitement.

“Own this world?” Cristiãn repeated incredulously. “With these guys? They’re just local hoods.”

“This is the perfect business for a vampire,” Razvan declared with a smile. “Name me another business that can quadruple your investment overnight. And it’s all under the table—no government forms, no identification checks. Anonymity is built in—no documentation. It’s perfect. It’s an underworld; the realm of a vampire.”

Razvan turned and began walking toward the door.

“Come, let me show you.”

Tony opened the door for Razvan. Razvan stopped just inside the doorway and turned to see Cristiãn’s reluctance to leave Cassidy behind.

“Detective Tremaine, will you join us?”

Cassidy hesitated and then set off for the door with Dumitra a step behind. They both passed by Cristiãn and followed Razvan and Tony through the doorway. Cristiãn followed them with his armed guards bringing up the rear.

“I don’t like this,” Tony stated as he walked beside Razvan. “It’s bad enough that we have a cop in here. Now we have this guy. Are we running a tourist attraction?”

“Cristiãn is an old, old friend, and he can help us.”

“We don’t need your friends,” Tony argued. “Just do what you promised, and I’ll get you all the friends you need.” 

“Relax, Tony,” Razvan encouraged. “Everything is going to be fine.”

Razvan and Tony led their small group through the entryway to the plastic enclosure at the center of the basement and then over to the table with the chemistry project at its center. The two men wearing chemical aprons stopped working as the group entered.

“You’re synthesizing MDMA,” Cassidy said to no one in particular.

“Yes, Detective,” Razvan responded pleasantly. “We were forced to move the lab here after your misadventure inside Lantz’s warehouse.”

“MDMA?” Cristiãn questioned.

“Ecstasy or E,” Cassidy explained as she scanned the contents of the room. “It’s a popular street drug.”

“What are you doing, Razvan?” Cristiãn asked.

A smile spread across Razvan’s face as he turned to Cristiãn.

“We’re participating in a criminal enterprise. Right now, our participation is limited to assisting in mergers, acquisitions, and with the collection of intel on competitors and the local constabulary. The money that we acquire through real estate investments and stock dividends is a pittance compared to what we can make in illegal commerce. But the real money, the real power is in what only we can sell. We have the ultimate commodity, Cristiãn, and the mortals will pay any price to get it. We’re going to be the largest organized criminal enterprise on the planet. And that’s just the beginning. We’re going to extend our tentacles into all levels of law enforcement, local and national politics, and Wall Street. There’s no limit to how high we can go. We’ll own it all.”

“You’re both insane,” Cristiãn proclaimed into the silence that followed Razvan’s presentation. “You will lose control.”

“No, we won’t,” Razvan returned forcefully. “That is what makes this time so great. Wealth is power. It doesn’t matter who your father was, or where you were born. The only thing that matters is how much money you have.”

Cristiãn fixed Razvan with a perplexed stare as he pondered the enormity of his plan.

“You’re feeding a baby dragon. And when it gets big enough to understand that it doesn’t need you anymore, it will devour you.”

“Not if you help us,” Razvan slyly countered.

Razvan paused to examine the effect of his words on Cristiãn.

“Join us, Cristiãn,” he pleaded.

Cristiãn studied Razvan sternly for several seconds. He then turned his attention on the tables and the activity of the two men working there. He watched their movements carefully then started toward the table. Razvan stepped in front him before he could complete a second step.

“I don’t think so,” Razvan insisted with a slight shake of his head. “You can look from there.”

Cristiãn was a couple of feet away from the end of the table nearest to the entrance. He understood that Razvan did not want him near the workings on the farthest end of the table with flammable liquids and burner with open flame. Cristiãn settled back and continued to watch.

“And what will you do if I don’t join you?” Cristiãn both questioned and challenged.

Razvan studied Cristiãn for a prolonged moment.

“I will do what I must.”

Cristiãn knew that Razvan was offering him an either/or proposition: turn her or watch her die. Razvan was gambling that he would turn her to save her life. And with Cassidy hidden away from him, he would have no choice but to guard their existence. He also knew that Razvan and Dumitra were counting on their presence to stop him from trying to take Cassidy by force. The two-armed guards were a problem, but they were not insurmountable problems. When it came to taking Cassidy by force, Razvan and Dumitra were his biggest obstacles. Dumitra suddenly broke into Cristiãn’s train of thought.

“Turn her, Cristiãn,” she pleaded.

Cristiãn looked at Dumitra, then he turned his gaze on Cassidy. She returned his gaze. Her expression morphed into terror. After a long moment, Cristiãn began to move toward her. When he came within two feet of her, she inched back into Dumitra who held her in place with a hand in her back as Cristiãn took her by the wrist. The two gunmen stood across the table on Cristiãn’s right by about a dozen feet—their guns ready; their focus fixed on what they expected to see. Razvan stood behind Cristiãn by four feet or so and a little off to his right. Dumitra was standing a few inches behind and slightly to the left of Cassidy. Tony stood about a half a dozen feet back from Razvan and was taking it all in. Everyone within the plastic enclosure, except the lab workers, were collected around the end of the table nearest to the entrance of the improvised cleanroom. Cristiãn stood with his back to the entrance with Cassidy still in his grip.

“No,” Cassidy pleaded while trying to pull free from Cristiãn’s grasp.

Cristiãn ignored her plea and pulled her forward with authority. The forcefulness in the act convinced Dumitra that he had Cassidy well in hand, and she moved off to Razvan’s side. All eyes were on Cristiãn and Cassidy, even the two lab workers stopped their work to watch.

“Don’t do this,” Cassidy pleaded as she continued to pull against Cristiãn’s grasp.

“They will kill you if I don’t,” Cristiãn answered as he pulled her in close to him.

Cassidy continued to try to pull away from his grip but could not. Cristiãn pulled her up tight against him as he stared into her eyes. Cassidy audibly gasped and tried to push away using all her might. Cristiãn quickly restrained her squirming by folding her arms behind her back. He immediately put his left hand to the task of holding both her arms in place and then slipped his right hand between them. As surreptitiously as he could, Cristiãn retrieved the small plastic bag of food seasoning from the cellphone pocket of his suit. He kept it down and between them and no one noticed.

“I will never forgive you for this,” Cassidy huffed out in defiance and terror.

Cristiãn and Cassidy gazed into each other’s eyes for several seconds. He then looked over his right shoulder at Razvan and Dumitra, holding their bewildered stares before flinging his right arm out with all the speed he could affect and releasing the food seasoning into their faces. It happened too quickly for them to know what Cristiãn had done. The mustard powder instantly burned their eyes and made them howl in pain as they spun away from the cloud of powder. Their hands immediately went up to their faces as they tried to wipe away the irritant that had effectively blinded them.

In that same instance, Cristiãn pushed Cassidy to the floor. The speed of her fall took her breath away.

“Stay down,” Cristiãn called out as he turned to shield his head and face from the imminent gunfire. 

No sooner had Cristiãn spoke those words did the guard with the shotgun discharge both barrels at him. Immediately after that, the second guard discharged two rounds from his pistol. A dozen or more shotgun pellets punched into Cristiãn’s side and back along with both bullets from the pistol. Cristiãn rolled with the hits and stooped down. The guard with the pistol attempted to reacquire a bead on Cristiãn, but his position below the plane of the table took him out of his sight line. While showing no ill effect from his gunshot wounds, Cristiãn scooted beneath the table, lifted it and its contents off the floor and charged the two gunmen.

“Run!” Cristiãn called out to Cassidy as he charged the gunmen with the table.

The man with the pistol fired three shots at Cristiãn. Two impacted the table; the third hit Cristiãn in the left thigh but did not affect his assault. The strength of Cristiãn’s charge and weight of the table forced the two gunmen to the floor. Cassidy quickly scrambled under the plastic drape, ran to the door and began to fumble with the lock after hearing Cristiãn’s order. Cristiãn turned to the second table just as Cassidy reached the door. He grabbed a beaker that was partially filled with a liquid and tossed the contents onto Razvan, Dumitra and Tony, then snatched the lit burner and threw it at Razvan, instantly setting him ablaze. Razvan was still writhing in pain from the mustard powder when the fire started. His spinning and flailing caused him to bump into Dumitra and set her aflame. Their torsos were quickly engulfed in fire. Tony was the least affected by Cristiãn’s assaults and the furthest away. Dumitra bumped into Tony’s left arm and ignited his suit, which he immediately set about extinguishing.

By this time, Cassidy had opened the basement door. Cristiãn pulled up the drape, raced across the basement and followed her into the stairwell two steps behind. One behind the other, they ran up the staircase and out the door at the back of the building. Four cars were parked in a parking area behind the building along with the refuge of unwanted furniture and household equipment. Cassidy ran down along the back wall of the building and came to a stop at a door several yards down. She was just about to grab the knob when Cristiãn stopped her. The sound of an air impact wrench whirring on the other side made him think it was not a door they should open.

“Come on,” Cristiãn instructed as he took Cassidy by the hand and began to lead her toward the ten-foot-high fence at the back of the yard.

Cristiãn came to a stop at a sliding gate that was latched with a chain and padlock. Cassidy immediately turned her eyes to the task of finding the best location for climbing the mesh fence. She discontinued her search when she realized that Cristiãn was trying to break the chain. After several seconds, he pulled one of the links apart. The effort clearly fatigued him. He leaned against the fence and began to pant away his exhaustion. Cassidy quickly reached in, unraveled the chain and pulled the gate open. She then took Cristiãn by the arm and rushed him down the side street at the back of the auto repair shop.

Cristiãn followed Cassidy’s lead. After a few seconds, their scurry turned into a fast walk. A little more than thirty seconds later, they reached a large street crossing. Cassidy turned left onto it with Cristiãn in hand, where their escape transitioned into a slow walk. Their change of pace was Cristiãn’s doing. He suddenly looked like a man exhausted from dehydration. 

“You okay?” Cassidy asked with deep concern.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Cristiãn reported with a huff.

Cassidy saw the holes in his suitcoat from the shotgun pellets and bullet. She could see his blood soaking into the material around the holes. She marveled that he was moving at all with so many wounds.

“I need to get you to a hospital,” Cassidy said as she looked about to get her bearings.

“No!” Cristiãn insisted as he quickly reached out and grabbed Cassidy’s arm. “I’ll be okay. I just need to rest.”

“You don’t look well,” Cassidy stated with a look of worry.

Cassidy was seeing more than an injured man. Cristiãn looked much older than he did several minutes ago. Streaks of gray lightened the color of his hair; age lines and wrinkles were visibly etched into his face.

“My body will heal on its own,” Cristiãn explained breathlessly. “I just need to get out of the sun and rest for a while.”

Cassidy took a moment to think.

“Okay, but I have to call this in.”

“No—don’t do that” Cristiãn countered with a pleading expression. “I need to tell you something first.”

Cassidy paused to consider Cristiãn’s request.

“It’s important,” Cristiãn asserted into the silence.

Everything in Cassidy said that she should call Lieutenant Graham and report all that had happened. But a concern for Cristiãn was fighting her sense of obligation as a police officer.

“Okay, I’ll get you home,” Cassidy reluctantly agreed.

“No,” Cristiãn sharply countered. “They’ll be looking for me there. I need to get out of the sun.”

Cassidy considered his response several seconds, then moved over to Cristiãn’s side.

“Okay, let’s go,” Cassidy instructed as she took Cristiãn by the arm.


	22. The Way Out

Tony and his two gunmen watched transfixed as Razvan and Dumitra thrashed wildly about. The fires were intent on consuming them. Shortly, Tony awakened from his astonishment and turned his attention to the two lab techs hiding at the far end of the room. They were clearly more concerned with the shooting than the fire.

“Do something!” Tony yelled.

The two lab techs promptly suppressed their fears and took up fire extinguishers. They jumped to the task of dousing Razvan and Dumitra with liberal amounts of the container’s contents. Tony took a moment to see that the lab techs complied with his instructions. Several seconds later, he turned his attention to his two gunmen. 

“Go after them!”

The gunmen setoff for the basement door at a run. The gunman with the shotgun was in the process of reloading as he went. The last of the flames on Razvan and Dumitra were extinguished by the time the two gunmen reached the top of the stairs. The lab techs then turned their attentions to the ancillary fires about the room. Once relieved of the flames, Razvan and Dumitra took several minutes to peel off the remnants of their burnt outer garments, wincing in pain from the effort of it. When his task was finished, Razvan angrily threw his suitcoat to the floor. He and Dumitra’s heads, arms and torsos were covered in burns. Tony was shocked by the sight of them, and even more surprised by Razvan and Dumitra’s tolerance for the injuries to their bodies. They appeared to be acting out of anger more than pain.

“Where are they?” Razvan barked out in fury.

Tony noted that Razvan kept his eyes tightly closed while frowning in agony as he spoke. During his wait for an answer, he made repeated attempts at opening his eyes despite the irritation within them. It was clear to Tony that Razvan was practically blind.

“Well!” Razvan shouted with impatience. “Where are they?”

The sound of Razvan’s shouts drew Dumitra to his side. Her eyesight appeared to be in the same condition as his. She rarely opened her eyes because of the pain and irritation that came with that act.

“They’re gone,” the gunman with the handgun shouted as he raced back into the basement.

The gunman with the shotgun raced in behind the first. They were breathing heavily from their exertion.

“Find them! And kill the girl,” Razvan ordered at the top of his lungs.

“They’re on the street,” the first gunman complained. “We can’t gun them down out in the open. She’s a cop!”

With a fierce grimace on his face, Razvan stepped over to where the first gunman was standing. He, in turn, inched backwards. Razvan grabbed the gunman by the shirt, lifted him off his feet and brought his face to within five inches of his own. Much of Razvan’s face was disfigured with burn injuries. His expression was furious and when he spoke, the uncharred features inside his mouth stood out in contrast to his outer features.

“Find them! I need that cop dead.”

Razvan tossed the gunman backwards after issuing his decree. The force of the shove caused him to fall to the floor. Razvan paused a moment to recover from the exhaustion of manhandling the gunman.

“They can’t be far. They’re on foot. Find them!”

The gunmen quickly looked to Tony for his approval. After a moment of thought, Tony gave them a nod of his head. The gunmen gave each other a knowing look then raced out the basement door and up the stairs in search of their prey. When the sound of their movements died away, Razvan turned his attention to what he could hear in the basement.

“Who else is down here?” Razvan questioned angrily.

“Just the chemists,” Tony answered with a hint of panic.

“Get them out,” Razvan ordered with a growl.

The lab techs listened to every word. They took off an instant after Tony waved them out. When they were halfway up the stairs, Tony turned his attention back to Razvan and waited for more instructions. There was silence for several seconds as Razvan and Dumitra continued to struggle with the irritation in their eyes.

“Damnit!” Razvan exclaimed angrily.

Razvan fumed over this turn of events for several seconds, grumbling and grinding his teeth. Dumitra said nothing as she dealt with the discomfort she felt in her eyes with soft moans and deep breaths. Shortly, a cellphone was heard vibrating from Razvan’s discarded suitcoat on the floor. After recognizing it was his phone, Razvan knelt and retrieved it. With some effort, he was able to see that the incoming call was from Lucian. He looked suspiciously at the cellphone in his hand for several seconds. Lucian had made three attempts to reach him over the past half-hour; he ignored those calls. He knew that Lucian was looking for Cristiãn, and he had no intention of telling him anything. But now the situation was different. Now he needed to know where Cristiãn was, and what he was doing. With this concern in mind, he completed the connection.

First, Razvan listened to Lucian’s question, then he ignored it in favor of what he wanted to say.

“He’s got her,” Razvan reported testily. “Cristiãn took Tremaine and he’s gone.”

Razvan listened to Lucian’s response.

“How the hell should I know?” Razvan returned with anger.

Once again there was a moment of silence as Razvan listened. Seconds later he responded with a mix of temper and desperation in his voice.

“Cristiãn and that girl must be found. We’re in this together now, Lucian. There’s no telling what Cristiãn might do to protect that mortal.”

Razvan went quiet as he listened to Lucian again. 

“Call him,” Razvan asserted from this end of the call. “Promise him anything but stop him.” 

Razvan listened with a growing look of fury but merely grumbled softly.

“So, what are you going to do?” Razvan queried angrily.

Razvan listened intently to Lucian’s response before blurting out another question.

“Where are you?”

The answer was brief as was Razvan’s reply.

“I’m coming.”

Razvan disconnected the call then began to ponder something that caused him to turn his attention to the floor. Dumitra picked up on his musing through their vampire bond. She moved in next to him, matching her mood to his. Tony could see that their eyesight had much improved—the irritant seeming to have lessened. They were extremely disheveled: dirty, tattered and scorched clothing; their hair an equal mess. Their faces were masks of burnt skin, dried blood and scar tissue. With their heads low, they fixed their attentions inwards.

After several seconds of silence, Tony felt emboldened enough to break they’re concentration.

“Okay, so what do we do now?” Tony asked with a frown. “This is your mess—your area of expertise. What’s going to happen and how do we fix it?”

Neither Razvan nor Dumitra bothered to look at Tony when he spoke. A few seconds after, they looked up at him, lifting their heads slightly with upturned eyes. They held their gaze upon him for several seconds as they considered their options. Then they looked to each other out of the corner of their eyes. They had come to a decision.

“Relax, Tony,” Razvan said wearily while moving toward him. “We’ll take care of it.”

Tony was slightly unnerved by Razvan’s presence directly in front of him. He inched back a little and hesitantly replied, “Okay.” 

“We will fix this. I promise,” Razvan assured with a smile.

Tony tried to relax a little. Then suddenly, Razvan grabbed him by the arm, snatched him forward until they were chest-to-chest and bared his teeth with a growl. His canines were much larger than they were a few seconds earlier. They looked like fangs to Tony, and the sight of them terrified him. Dumitra hurried over to Tony with her fangs bared. Tony screamed as Razvan sank his teeth into his neck. A second later, Dumitra sunk hers into his inner wrist. It took a little more than a minute for them to drink him into unconsciousness and little more than five to drink him dead. When they had both taken their fill of him, Razvan placed his body in the freezer chest that he had secured for Cassidy. Before closing the lid, Razvan bit into the fleshy part of his hand and drained a small amount of his blood into Tony’s mouth.

_~~~~~line break~~~~~_

“Wait!” Cristiãn called out as he grabbed Cassidy’s arm and brought them both to a stop.

Cristiãn recognized the make, model and color of the car that just had turned onto the street as the same one that had picked him up at the garage.

“What is it?” Cassidy asked, confused and surprised.

Cristiãn saw that the two occupants of the car were the gunmen they had just escaped minutes earlier. He suspected they were there to kill Cassidy. He had no doubt that Razvan had given them that order. Cristiãn hoped that the moderately active community they were in, with its assortment of small retail stores, would deter Razvan’s mortal cohorts from attempting any acts of violence, but he seriously doubted that that would be the case.

“It’s them,” Cristiãn reported while holding his gaze on the car.

Cassidy noted the car that Cristiãn was looking at just as he tugged her away from the street. The four-story building next to them had a for sale banner attached to the front fire escape. The windows from the second story up were boarded over. The ground floor store fronts were covered by their role down metal shutters. Cristiãn hurried over to the building’s front door.

“We have to get off the street.”

Cristiãn tried the door of the building and discovered it was locked just as the Buick LaCrosse began speeding toward them. He immediately grabbed the doorknob with both hands and ripped it out of its housing. He then tossed the knob aside and opened the door.

The exertion it took to open the door nearly brought Cristiãn to his knees and caused his breathing to become labored. Cassidy grabbed him to give support and found him unusually warm to the touch. With her arm around his waist, she helped him through the doorway to the darkened staircase on the other side which disappeared into an equally dark second floor. Cristiãn stumbled to a stop at the foot of the stairs and dropped to one knee. With his free arm, he grabbed the railing to stop himself from going all the way down to the floor. Within seconds, they heard a car screech to a stop in front of the building.

“We’ve got to go up,” Cristiãn said as he pulled himself back up onto his feet and started to ascend the stairs.

Cassidy continued to assist him up the stairs. She thought his ascent was surprisingly swift considering how exhausted he was just moments earlier, but he nearly collapsed from exhaustion as they reached the top. When they heard someone at the door at the foot of the stairs, Cristiãn pulled her away from the light coming through door. They listened silently without moving for several seconds but heard no sound of movement at the door below. Cristiãn finally signaled with a hand gesture for Cassidy to follow him.

The landing on the second floor turned out into a hallway that went the length of the building. The windows, at either end of the hallway, were boarded over. Light seeping through the sides of the boards barely provided enough illumination for Cassidy to see as she moved through the hallway. The air was stale and moldy. There were only two apartments on that floor—one at either end. All the external and interior doors to the apartments had been removed.

Cristiãn led toward the front of the building and the next staircase as quietly as he could. Cassidy’s steps were hampered by low light and the debris strewn about the floor. When they reached the front end of the hall, they climbed the staircase to the third floor with as much stealth as possible. To Cassidy’s surprise, Cristiãn’s breathing was much improved. She had yet to understand that the darkness inside the building was providing him relief from the sunlight. Along with their slow and quiet movements, Cristiãn’s stamina began to improve.

As they climbed to the third floor, they still heard no sound from the ground floor. Cristiãn was more aware of the silence than Cassidy. His hearing was more acute than human ears could be. He knew there was one person at the ground floor landing of the stairwell; he or she had not started to ascend the stairs yet. When they reached the third floor, Cristiãn went back to the front of the building. The configuration and condition of the third floor was essentially identical to the second—only darker. 

“Come-on,” Cristiãn whispered as he started to creep up the staircase to the fourth floor with Cassidy in tow.

Halfway up the staircase, Cristiãn heard the voices of two men floating up the stairwell. He could barely make out the question, “where are they?” He faintly heard part of the reply: “…a couple of floors.” When Cristiãn and Cassidy reached the fourth-floor landing, they made their way to the apartment at the rear of the building and then into the bedroom furthest from the apartment door.

_~~~~~line break~~~~~_

Charlie Panko and Ben Dalby were Tony McGuire’s trusted associates. Tony knew he could count on them to act on his behalf with the same ruthlessness as he; this is why he sent them to kill Detective Tremaine. He knew they would do as he commanded.

When Charlie and Ben left to find Cassidy, they both thought there was a better than even chance that they would find them. They knew that Cristiãn and Cassidy were on foot, but they also knew that with the passage of time that situation could and likely would change. Cristiãn and Cassidy were less than five minutes ahead of them, so they believed them to be in the vicinity and still on foot.

After getting their kill order from Tony, Charlie and Ben rushed out after Cristiãn and Cassidy. They began their search by cruising the neighborhood. The open gate was a strong indicator of the direction they took. Charlie saw them not ten minutes into their hunt.

“There!” Charlie called out.

It was their movement more than their appearance that gave them away. Out of a dozen pedestrians on the block, Cristiãn and Cassidy were the only two that scurried off the sidewalk. Ben followed Charlie’s point to the man and woman couple at the far end of the block. He, in turn, steered the Buick La Crosse in that direction at the best possible speed the traffic would allow.

“Park the car and follow me,” Charlie barked back as he climbed out of the vehicle.

Charlie slammed the door behind him and then ran over to the door that Cristiãn and Cassidy disappeared behind. He quickly noted that the door was unlatched. He was in no hurry to rush inside. He did not know where Cristiãn was on the other side, and he did not want to take his semi-automatic pistol from beneath his jacket in full view of pedestrians. He waited by the side of the door and listened for sounds through the small opening between the door and its frame. As he stood listening, he also watched the passersby on the sidewalk. When there was no one on the sidewalk close enough to see, Charlie pulled out his pistol then pushed the door a quarter of the way open with his foot.

The door’s wider opening did not enable him to hear any movement or talking inside. After listening for several seconds, he inched his head out around the door frame and looked inside the building. He could see that there was no place for anyone to hide. The door opened onto the ground floor landing of a staircase that went up to the second floor. The staircase filled the entire width of the area then rose into a darkness that intensified as it went up. Emboldened by the knowledge that there was no one nearby to harm him, Charlie slipped into the stairwell quietly. He then stopped at the foot of the stairs and listened to the sounds of movement on the second floor.

Charlie knew little about the vampires, and what he did know came from Tony. His information was limited to the fact that they had an indeterminate lifespan and that severing their heads from their bodies was an effective way of killing them. That was enough information to make him reluctant to go up the stairs. The battle at the drug lab told him that their ability to endure gunshot wounds was much higher than that of a mortal. That one fact convinced him not to go up the stairs alone.

Several minutes had passed when Ben joined Charlie in the stairwell. He carried his sawed-off shotgun in his hand wrapped under his jacket. The sight of Charlie inside gave Ben the confidence to hurry in. He stopped just past the threshold and waited for instructions. Charlie gave him a brief look then turned his attention back up the stairwell.

“Where are they?” Ben asked in a hushed voice.

“I think they’re a couple of floors up,” Charlie answered softly.

After a moment, Charlie nodded toward the door. Ben understood that he should shut the door despite the darkness inside the building. Closing the door made sense to Ben; the use of their weapons would echo out onto the sidewalk. Immediately after shutting the door, Ben unwrapped his shotgun and brought it to the ready.

“I don’t suppose you have a flashlight?” Charlie asked softly.

Ben responded with a shake of his head. Charlie then nodded for Ben to lead the ascent up the stairs. Slowly and one step at a time, Ben led, and Charlie followed five steps behind, both listening for sounds of movement above. The silence continued as they made their way to the second floor. Charlie joined Ben at the top of the stairs and briefly scanned the floor in both directions. He admonished Ben from doing anything more on that floor with a shake of his head. He was confident that Cristiãn and Cassidy were not on the second floor.

Ben moved on down the hall to continue up the stairs at the front of the building. Charlie followed three steps behind. One after the other, they cautiously ascended the stairs to the third floor. They heard no sound of movement during their ascent. Ben searched the floor while holding his shotgun at the ready. Charlie remained several steps behind. The absence of doors and furniture made the search relatively brief. Charlie routinely held his position near the doorway of each apartment as Ben walked through with his shotgun ready for action. When they finished going through both apartments, they proceeded to the fourth floor.

Charlie had little doubt that Cristiãn and Cassidy were somewhere on this floor. He knew that if they had ripped a plank from a window and clamored down the fire escape the sound of those actions would have resounded throughout the building. That knowledge motivated Charlie to search the floor much slower and with much more care than the levels below. He communicated his intention to Ben with a palm down hand gesture.

They started with the rear apartment—Charlie following Ben as he crept down the hall and stopping just past the doorway. Ben was halfway through the apartment, between the front room and the kitchen, when he came to a stop. Charlie was briefly startled when Ben came to an abrupt standstill. He thought Ben might have heard or seen something, but seconds later, Charlie’s alarm subsided as Ben appeared indifferent to his surroundings. As Charlie relaxed, he became confused by Ben’s posture as he suddenly went limp. His arms drooped down to his sides. His shotgun fell out of his left hand and dangled down toward the floor in his right. Charlie thought to move up to investigate Ben’s physical manner, but his thoughts became diffused and he suddenly began to feel dizzy.

_~~~~~line break~~~~~_

Cristiãn and Cassidy had been hiding in the bedroom of the rear fourth floor apartment for more than five minutes. They stood in the corner furthest from the doorway. Cassidy heard only two men climbing the stairs from the second to the third floor. Cristiãn heard them from the moment they entered the building. He began to smell them when they reached the second floor.

The sound of them moving up the stairs to the third floor prompted Cristiãn into action. Without notice to Cassidy or hesitation, he bit into the fleshy part of his left palm behind his thumb. Cassidy watched him in complete bewilderment. She gasped when he faced her, and the light reflected off his eyes. Cristiãn quickly brought his finger up to his lips signaling quiet.

“I need you to drink some of my blood,” Cristiãn whispered.

Cassidy back away from Cristiãn’s predatory eyes and shook her head in shock.

“You have to drink some of my blood,” Cristiãn insisted in a whisper.

“I’m not drinking your blood,” Cassidy whispered back as she pressed herself against the wall behind her.

Cristiãn could see that Cassidy was not going to comply with his instruction and he knew they had no time for explanation or discussion. Cristiãn mentally set his heart to racing ten times faster than usual for a mortal and inched himself closer to Cassidy. He stared into her eyes as he gauged the heat radiating off his body. A couple of seconds later, Cassidy went rigid with her mind lapsing into a fugue state too deep for her to dispel.

“Tilt your head back,” Cristiãn whispered.

Cassidy complied without any sign of resistance.

“Open your mouth,” Cristiãn instructed softly.

Again, Cassidy did as instructed with a dazed expression. Cristiãn then held his bleeding hand over her open mouth and allowed half a dozen drops of his blood to fall into it.

“Swallow,” Cristiãn instructed.

Cassidy did as she was told, then Cristiãn turned and quietly moved to the center of the room and focused his attention on the sounds coming from the stairwell. He effectively ignored Cassidy as he listened to the sounds get closer. His heart continued to pump rapidly as he waited and listened. Cassidy began to awaken from her trance. Her eye lids began to blink, and her head began to move. Her dazed expression turned into a look of confusion. Cristiãn looked around to witness the revival of her consciousness. Cassidy brought her hand up and wiped the blood from her face. She went into wide-eyed shock at the sight of blood on her fingers. Cristiãn quickly brought his finger up to his lips again to silence her. Cassidy said nothing, but her shocked expression remained for several seconds before it transitioned into seething anger.

Over the next minute, they listened to the sounds being created by the two men coming up the stairwell and down the hall. After another thirty seconds, they could hear the men in the apartment, and one of them was in the hall that led to the room they were in. Cristiãn held his position in the center of the room while Cassidy held her gaze on him from the corner. Each step the man in the hall took raised the level of her terror and then, to her surprise, the man stopped moving. Several seconds passed without a sound from either of them, then Cristiãn went slowly into motion.

Cristiãn found Ben standing in the hall in a stupor with his shotgun dangling by his side. Beyond him, Charlie stood at the mouth of the hall with a dazed and confused expression. His head moved back and forth, and his eyes blinked as if irritated. Cristiãn immediately recognized their conditions, then he started toward them at a hurried and deliberate pace. He grabbed Ben by the top of his shirt with his right hand and lifted him off the floor. He then used his left hand to strip away the shotgun and toss it aside. His anger drove him to ram Ben back and forth against the left and right walls again and again in rapid succession. He then dropped Ben to the floor as if tossing a bag of garbage.

Cassidy moved to the bedroom’s doorway in time to see Cristiãn charge Charlie. The gunman looked bewildered. He tried to raise his pistol at Cristiãn, but his effort was too slow and uncoordinated. Cristiãn raced up to him, grabbed him by his head and shoulders, and then bit into his neck. Cassidy was shocked by his speed and ferocity. She watched as Cristiãn sucked Charlie’s blood from his body and then drop his listless body to the floor.

When Cristiãn turned to face Cassidy, she was shocked to the point of terror. His eyes glistened like the headlights of a car in a fog. A low vibration seemed to reverberate through his entire body. He was no more than a silhouette in the building’s dark interior. She could not see the details of his face from that distance, but his posture suggested that he was much invigorated by his meal. A moment later, he began to move toward her at a deliberate pace. Out of terror, Cassidy took a quick step back. Cristiãn stopped at Ben’s body on the floor, pulled him up to a stance with his back against the wall and began to feed off him. He was done in less than thirty seconds. Cristiãn released his body to fall back to the floor and then he turned and look at Cassidy.

At that distance, Cassidy could barely see Cristiãn’s elongated canines. There was a darkness around his mouth that she assumed was blood. His eyes continued to reflect the small about of diffuse light within the rooms. Again, there was a rumble vibrating deep within Cristiãn’s chest, and just for a second, Cassidy feared she was next.

Cristiãn swiftly turned around and wiped the blood from his face with his sleeve and broke off the ends of his fangs with his index finger and thumb. When he turned away from Cassidy, she began to believe she would be okay. When he turned to face her again, she noticed the absence of his fangs and the glistening light from his eyes. She exhaled with relief.

“Let’s get out of here,” Cristiãn suggested as he stooped down to search through Ben’s pockets.

As Cassidy took several deep, calming breaths, Cristiãn found Ben’s keys. Then in a quick succession of motions, he made his way to the apartment’s exit. Cassidy hesitantly stepped over Ben and set off behind Cristiãn. In the main room, she stopped next to Charlie’s body and quickly collected his gun from the floor. She hesitated there for a moment to take note of his breathing, then she stood up and shoved the gun into her holster beneath her jacket. Cristiãn was halfway down the common hallway when Cassidy started moving again.

“Are they dying?” Cassidy asked as she followed Cristiãn down the stairs.

Cassidy wanted to know if Charlie’s breathing was a temporary condition.

“I doubt it,” Cristiãn answered as he hurried down the stairs.

“What does the mean?” Cassidy asked.

Cristiãn continued down the stairs as he responded to Cassidy’s questions.

“I wasn’t trying to kill them.”

“Then what’s wrong with them?” Cassidy huffed as she raced to keep up with Cristiãn.

“It’s the pheromones,” Cristiãn called back as he completed the last few steps above the ground floor. “I pumped out enough to sedate an elephant.”

“Cristiãn stopped at the exit to the building and looked back at Cassidy to give what he hoped would be the last words on the subject.

“They should start waking up in about twenty minutes.”

Cristiãn waited briefly as Cassidy’s mind swirled with thoughts but produced no immediate question. Then he pushed open the door and hurried out onto the sidewalk with Cassidy following his lead. Cristiãn immediately began to scan the street for the Buick LaCrosse.

“Come on,” Cristiãn encouraged after spotting the car half a block down.

Cristiãn set off for the car at a hurried pace, unlocking all four doors with a press of a button on the key fob on the way. Cassidy did her best to keep up. He quickly opened the door and slipped into the driver’s seat and Cassidy hurried into the front passenger’s seat. A few seconds later, the car was moving down the street at the best speed the traffic could bear.

As Cristiãn drove, he noticed Cassidy’s expression of amazed curiosity while she stared at his hands. He realized her amazement was due to his newly grown half inch-long fingernails.

“It happens when I’m about to feed,” Cristiãn began explaining apprehensively. “My metabolism goes hyperactive and my—predator side takes over.”

Cassidy studied Cristiãn’s face for a long moment before a question came to mind.

“So, you’re a vampire?” Cassidy queried more to confirm to herself.

Before responding, Cristiãn quickly glanced at Cassidy. 

“Vampire, Strigoi, Fantoma, Monstru, Incubi, Succubi, Dibbuk, Zombie, Demonul, Varcolac, Werewolf, we have been called many things,” Cristiãn explained. “Vampire is the name that mortals of this time have become attached to.”

Cassidy studied Cristiãn as he drove. His face looked as if it had regained twenty to thirty years over the past half hour. His wounds were no longer bleeding, but his white shirt was clearly stained with his blood. Her thoughts reached for something she heard him say.

“I thought Werewolves and Vampires were different—monsters?” she asked, a little confused.

“That appears to be the universal misconception among mortals,” Cristiãn said with a hint of indifference.

“What does that mean?” Cassidy pressed for more.

Cristiãn could hear in her voice that she wanted to understand, and he could think of no reason to deny her an explanation given their present circumstance.

“Your ancestors at different times in history, and often in different locations, had different names for the same thing. What you mortals called werewolves were just starving vampires that had gone crazy from several days, if not weeks, without sleep.”

Cassidy looked at him with wide-eyed bewilderment. Cristiãn looked at her briefly and saw that more information was required.

“It was common for such a vampire to roam about the countryside at night searching for rodents and small animals to eat since larger prey roamed farther afield and were harder to find. There was also the problem of catching and subduing large prey animals. This was usually far more difficult to accomplish and always more exhausting. Mortals were the one exception. An unsuspecting mortal moving alone in the dark was the easiest prey of all—fat with meat and blood and a delicacy that few starving vampires could let pass.”

“Why couldn’t they sleep?” Cassidy asked.

“They were too afraid to sleep,” Cristiãn answered with a shrug. “We are at our most vulnerable when we sleep. We sleep like the dead. Our hearts beat two to three times an hour when we slumber. Breathing is superfluous in this state. Sounds and feelings take several minutes to register in our brains. The slayers murdered most of our kind while we slept. It took a brave Strigoi to close his eyes.”

“So, you’re not already dead?” Cassidy questioned with some surprise in her voice.

“That was a lie made up to convince mortals that we’re less than human,” Cristiãn sharply returned while he continued to drive with determination.

“Aren’t you?” Cassidy challenged the idea.

Her question took Cristiãn by surprise. He quickly looked at her to confirm her accusatory tone.

“Our capacity for humanitarian behavior is no more or less than yours.” Cristiãn flatly stated.

“Oh really, and what was humanitarian about seducing me?” Cassidy quickly countered testily.

“I was protecting you,” Cristiãn sternly insisted.

“Bullshit!”

Cassidy’s objection to his argument was provoked by fear that she was manipulated by a man that had no feelings for her.

“You don’t get it,” Cristiãn asserted. “Razvan and Dumitra were going to kill you. You were supposed to die in that warehouse fire. The only way I could protect you was by staying near you.”

His explanation did nothing to soothe Cassidy’s anger; she felt violated and fumed for several seconds before a new thought took hold of her.

“Why didn’t your pheromones affect me?” Cassidy asked.

Cristiãn gave Cassidy another quick look and noted that her anger had subsided. So, he squashed his defenses and responded in a mild tone of voice.

“It’s my blood. It made you immune.”

His answer sent Cassidy into a state of emotional shock.

“What?” Cassidy blurted out. “Did you change…”

Cristiãn instantly noted her panic and quickly spoke to dispel it.

“No, I didn’t turn you.”

Cassidy was not satisfied by his answer.

“Your sister said that drinking vampire blood is what turns humans into vampires.”

“It does,” Cristiãn agreed with a nod while holding his attention on the road. “But not in this case.”

“Why not in this case?” Cassidy asked angrily.

Cristiãn knew that Cassidy needed a thorough explanation for her peace of mind. He took a moment to organize his thoughts before explaining what she needed to know.

“Yes, it’s our blood that turns mortals into immortals. But you must die first for that to happen. If a living mortal ingests our blood or applies it to an open wound it does the same thing for them that it does for us. But it only works for the area that it’s applied to and only for a short time.”

Cassidy’s expression showed that she understood his explanation, but she was still curious.

“So, it would repair that area the same way that your blood is repairing you?” Cassidy asked with a puzzled look.

“Exactly,” Cristiãn answered. “Only the effect would stop when your immune system fights off the infection.”

Cassidy pondered this information until a new question popped into her head.

“Okay, then what does it repair when we drink vampire blood?”

Cristiãn gave her question a moment of thought then shrugged.

“I suppose if you have a head cold, it will take care of that.”

“That’s it?”

“Other than making you temporarily resistant to the intoxicating affects of our pheromone aura, yes.” Cristiãn explained as though he did not know what else to say. “It doesn’t change you, Cassidy.”

Cassidy thought for a moment and concluded that there was nothing to worry about. At the end of her analysis, she began a search for a new inquiry into the world of vampires. After several seconds, her mind went to an event that happened when they escaped from the Ecstasy lab.

“What’s up with the mustard powder?” Cassidy asked with a hint of whimsy in her tone “I thought vampires were supposed to be allergic to garlic.”

“We are,” Cristiãn answered softly. “Our bodies respond adversely to most seasonings if we ingest, or inhale them, or if they get into our eyes—but mustard is the worst. Twelve-hundred years ago, nobody knew about mustard seeds.”

Cassidy took this in with amazement. Shortly after hearing his answer, she looked up and turned her attention to the street they were traveling on.

“Where are you taking me?” Cassidy asked.

“I’m not taking you anywhere,” Cristiãn said softly. “I’m taking me to my car.”

Cassidy was thinking about his answer when Cristiãn brought the car to a stop outside of a parking garage. He promptly put the car in park then turned to face her.

“This is where I leave, Detective Tremaine,” Cristiãn informed her somberly.

Cristiãn took a moment to examine Cassidy with a look of dread, then he pulled his cellphone out of his suitcoat pocket and began typing with his thumbs.

“What are you doing?” Cassidy asked.

“I’m sending you an email,” Cristiãn explained as he continued to type.

“What’s in the email?”

“We’re in it,” Cristiãn answered as he finished addressing the email. “I’m forwarding you the file that Razvan sent to all of us.”

Cassidy was taken by surprise by his answer. She knew that file contained the names and addresses of all but two of the vampires. It was the last thing she expected to hear.

“This is your only way out,” Cristiãn began to explain. “Once we’re exposed, the others will have no reason to harm you.”

Cassidy’s surprise intensified. She knew that Cristiãn was sacrificing himself and the other vampires with this act. 

“What about your sister?”

Cristiãn took a moment to consider her question and searched for a reply.

“She has lived a long life,” he said despondently.

He paused to stare mournfully at Cassidy.

“I can’t let them sacrifice you to save us—not even for Nadja.”

Cristiãn pressed the button that sent the email on its way to her. All of Cassidy’s anger toward him fell away. She suddenly understood the depth of Cristiãn’s regard for her. She had no response for what he had just said or did. For a long moment, she could do nothing but stare at the vampire who was looking back at her.

“Don’t make the mistake of thinking this is going to immediately fix everything,” Cristiãn said into the silence between them. “We immortals are very good at hiding. This will not solve your vampire problem—not in the short-term.”

After hearing these last remarks, Cassidy awakened from her amazement. 

“Why won’t it solve our problem?”

Cristiãn feared explaining more. He worried that his answer would deter her from doing what she had to do. 

“This is your only way out, Cassidy,” Cristiãn returned sincerely. “They will come after you.”

“What’s going to happen?” Cassidy vehemently asked. “Why were you all so opposed to Evan and Christine?”

Once again, Cristiãn was hesitant. Cassidy could see that he did not want to answer her question.

“Tell me!” she yelled. “Why will vampires continue to be a problem?”

Cristiãn paused and took a deep breath while considering her. He could see that she was not going to be satisfied until she had an answer to her question. 

“Vampires are not the problem,” Cristiãn sternly insisted. “Humans are...”

“Why are we the problem?” Cassidy demanded.

Cristiãn paused just long enough to find the words.

“Immortality is the ultimate commodity. Mortals will give everything they have to acquire it, and not just the peasants—the Kings and Queens as well. If Dumitra and Razvan get their way, vampirism will be for sale to anyone and everyone who can add to their wealth and power.” 

“You’re saying there’s going to be more of you?” Cassidy questioned.

“This is nothing new for us. I’ve seen mortals beg to be turned. The only reason why there isn’t a thousand of us scattered about the planet right now is because we agreed to never turn a mortal without the consent of the majority. And since our awakening, that consent has never been given.”

“But Dumitra and Razvan are no longer one of you?” Cassidy stated with an inquiring inflection.

“That’s right,” Cristiãn answered softly.

“And if I expose all of you to the world, what will happen then?” Cassidy asked with an intense stare.

For a few seconds, Cristiãn said nothing as he considered the ramifications of the answer. Shortly, he concluded that he had no recourse but to tell Cassidy where the situation was going.

“They will use every means they have to survive,” Cristiãn answered.

“You mean they will make more vampires?” Cassidy corrected.

“For a price, yes,” Cristiãn confirmed.

Cassidy was shocked by his answer. She hesitated and took a couple of fearful breathes.

“How many more?”

Cristiãn hesitated to reply.

“As many as necessary.”

“And then their—offspring—will make more, and their offspring behind them will do the same.” Cassidy said in a daze almost to herself.

“Yes, but there’s no other way,” Cristiãn insisted. “This is your only way out.”

Cassidy pondered his answer for several seconds before asking her next question.

“And how does this end?” Cassidy asked with a frightened expression.

“It ends with a purge—on a global scale,” Cristiãn replied.

“Global?” Cassidy blurted out in shock.

Cristiãn took a moment to consider why this was so surprising to her.

“Twelve hundred years ago, we were contained by the terrain, the sun and the location of our food supply. All of these made traveling across great distances unappealing to our kind. For us, sunlight and physical exertion are lethal combinations, and we feared being stranded alone in the middle of nowhere. So, we stayed where the food was. But in this time, the food is everywhere, and all it takes is a plane, a train or a car to get there—no exertion required.”

Cassidy was stunned by this scenario. She stared into empty space contemplating his explanation. 

“You’re talking about a worldwide infestation.”

To give emphasis to his words, Cristiãn gave Cassidy a fierce look before responding.

“You have to do this, Cassidy. Razvan and Dumitra are going to do it anyway. The only difference with them is that by the time mortals learn of our existence, their offspring will be everywhere.”

After hearing his response, Cassidy froze and stared off into deep thought. Cristiãn said nothing as he watched and waited for her to digest this information. Several seconds later Cassidy awakened from her reflections in dismay.

“What are you going to do?” Cassidy asked.

“I have to go,” Cristiãn softly answered. “I have an obligation to fulfill.”

Cassidy considered his answer before concluding that he was going back to his club and the vampire alliance.

“They’ll kill you!” Cassidy exclaimed.

“Probably,” Cristiãn softly concurred and with a nod. “But it’s not like I don’t have it coming.”

“You can’t do that,” Cassidy pleaded. “You have to come with me. We can protect you.”

Cristiãn started shaking his head before Cassidy reached the end of her response.

“I’m not doing that, Cassidy,” Cristiãn whispered with a slight smile. “I already know my way out.”

At that moment, Cassidy knew that Cristiãn was planning to die. The thought of him throwing away his life suddenly frightened her.

“You have to surrender yourself,” Cassidy rationalized. “We’re going to need your help with—with—all of this.”

“I’m not doing that,” Cristiãn returned dejectedly.

Cristiãn pulled the door handle and began to push the door open.

“I have to go,” Cristiãn softly said to her.

Reflexively, Cassidy reached beneath her jacket and drew the weapon she took from the unconscious Charlie Panko.

“Stop!” Cassidy ordered as she directed the handgun toward Cristiãn. “I’m taking you in.”

Cristiãn noted the gun then pulled the door shut.

“I can’t do this,” Cristiãn whispered as he stared into Cassidy’s eyes.

Immediately after he spoke, Cassidy’s mind began to fade into a stupor. Her clarity of thought was nearly gone. She no longer had the ability to formulate sentences. Within seconds, she lost all her sense of awareness. Her faculties began to return after several minutes. When her awareness was fully restored, Cristiãn was no longer in the car. Cassidy was shocked by this revelation. She had no idea how long she had been in a daze; she knew it had to be longer than a few seconds. She checked her watch and judged by the time that she could not have been incapacitated for more than a few minutes. After lingering over her thoughts for a moment more, she moved out of the front passenger’s seat and into the driver’s.

After getting behind the wheel of the car, Cassidy’s first thought was to call Cristiãn, but she quickly remembered that her cellphone was not on her. She spent the next minute wondering what to do next. Her mind raced through different methods of exposing the vampires, along with the complications and consequences of each. At the end of her analysis, she concluded that there was only one thing to do. She started the car and drove off in a hurry.

Cassidy drove to the 94th precinct. She had two reasons for going there: It was not far from where she was, and she was familiar with the station. The car screeched to moderately hard stop in front of the closest parking space to the station. She then climbed out of the car, raced down the street and hurried through the front entrance of the Precinct.

Cassidy had no trouble negotiating her way into the precinct. She had the benefit of her shield and identification to facilitate her movement through the building. She had history with the precinct: she had been posted there one year ago. Most of the officers knew her on sight and many knew her as an acquaintance. One patrol officer she knew intercepted her in the hall and inquired why she was there; a detective she knew made the same inquiry when she was seated at a vacant desk. She told them both that she was in the vicinity on an investigation and needed access to a computer terminal. That proved to be enough to stem their curiosity.

The moment she acquired a computer and was free from the attention of others, Cassidy retrieved Cristiãn’s email. She quickly opened the attached file and perused through the assortment of pages and pictures as fast as she dared. When she was finished, she accessed the case file for the Greenbelt Nine and retrieved the phone number for The Cavern and immediately called it. She would have preferred to call Cristiãn’s cellphone, but she did not remember his number and it was not listed in the case file. After a dozen rings, she was convinced no one would answer and hung up. She took a moment to contemplate the lack of response to her call before concluding that she had to do what she had to do.

Cassidy immediately went to work assimilating the pages from the email into a case file. She worked at a hurried pace, much more so than she would have normally. Setting up the case file in the system was the quickest part of her task—taking barely more than five minutes. Printing out the more than two dozen pages that she needed for a presentation folder took a little longer. The process was further complicated by manually blacking out all the file numbers on the printed copies with a marker and then creating photocopies of each. She then shredded the printed copies and put the photocopies in her presentation folder. When she was finally done, nearly an hour had passed from start to finish and Cassidy was racing out of the precinct with the presentation folder in her hand.


	23. Hide and Seek

“Where’s Cristiãn?” Lucian demanded.

The loud and sudden query brought all conversations to a stop, and everyone’s attention turned to Lucian. A moment later, all eyes in the main hall of the Cavern Nightclub began to search for Cristiãn. As soon as the confused search began, Lucian headed for the kitchen at a hurried walk. He soon raced back into the main hall and stopped several paces away from Nadja.

“Where did he go?” Lucian demanded of her.

Petru moved to Nadja’s side and fixed Lucian with a fierce stare. Nadja’s demeanor remained indifferent.

“I don’t know.”

“But you do,” Lucian grumbled, looking at Petru.

“I knew he left,” Petru hissed back. “But I don’t know where he went.”

Lucian seethed in response. He scanned the faces about him for someone who knew more. After receiving only stares and silence in return, Lucian pulled out his cellphone and dialed Cristiãn’s number. He waited near to a minute until the call went to voicemail. Without leaving a message, he shut down the call and tried it again.

“He’s not answering his phone,” Lucian growled to himself after another prolonged wait.

Nearly fifteen minutes had passed since Cristiãn left the club. The group in the main hall of the club had been too involved with their discussions to notice his absence. The discovery that Cristiãn had sneaked away suddenly made their talks a secondary concern. Everyone began to wonder what possible consequences could result from Cristiãn’s absence.

“There’s nothing he can do at this point,” Radu spoke up in a soothing tone. “Razvan was long gone before he left.”

“Then where did he go?” Lucian challenged.

“Radu is right,” Eugen supported. “Without knowing where Razvan took her, there’s nothing he can do. He probably just wanted to get away so he could call Razvan.”

There were several murmurs of agreement from around the room. Lucian stood still and scanned the room for clues a moment before turning to the group with a frown.

“Then why did he take the detective’s gun and cellphone?” Lucian pointed to the table where they had been.

All eyes looked at the table and briefly scanned the area and saw that Cassidy’s gun, keys and cellphone were no longer in the room.

“What does he think he’s doing?”

“I think he may have gotten a text from Razvan,” Adrianna offered tentatively.

“When?” Lucian asked with a quick look toward Adrianna and Sorin.

“He got a text about ten to fifteen minutes after they left,” Sorin reported. “He said it was nothing important.”

“Damn!” Lucian growled.

Lucian scowled as he dialed Cristiãn’s cellphone again. He paced back and forth as he waited for the call to connect or go to voicemail. Lucian thought the call was on its way to Cristiãn’s answering service when it was suddenly picked up. Despite his surprise, Lucian spoke angrily into the phone.

“Where are you?” 

All eyes locked onto Lucian when he spoke and then waited on Cristiãn’s response. Several individuals in the hall inched forward. A few seconds later, Lucian responded.

“What are you doing, Cristiãn,” Lucian growled.

Once again Lucian went silent as he listened to Cristiãn, then he abruptly removed the cellphone from his ear and stared off into empty space with a wide-eyed stare.

“What did he say?” Stefan asked.

“He says things are going to change,” Lucian answered back as his mind continued to ponder what he had heard.

“What’s going to change?” Eugen queried.

“I don’t know. He didn’t say,” Lucian returned testily.

“That’s it? He didn’t say anything else?” Stefan pressured for more.

Lucian backed away from his reverie and gave Stefan a somber stare.

“He says we need to prepare to start hiding.”

Everyone in the room went quiet in reaction to that statement. Their thoughts attempting to understand the possible effects those words would have on their lives.

“I think we need to get out of here,” Flavia said in a worried tone.

“Flavia is right,” Sorin agreed. “If we’re about to be exposed, this is the last place we should be.”

There was a quick round of agreement from everyone there, and then they all began to move toward the front entrance.

“We regroup at the Greenwich house,” Lucian instructed.

The group accepted his instructions on the fly without stopping to acknowledge his message.

_~~~~~line break~~~~~_

“Who are you calling?” Stefan asked as he drove away.

Elisabeta and Lucian were in the back seat of the car that Stefan was driving. Helga was in the front passenger seat. They had been gone from The Cavern for approximately 20 minutes.

“I’m calling Razvan,” Lucian answered grumpily. “If Cristiãn won’t tell me what’s happening, then maybe Razvan will.”

“What makes you think he knows what Cristiãn is planning?” Helga asked, looking back.

“If he sent Cristiãn a text, then he must know something,” Elisabeta lectured back.

Lucian counted the number of rings to Razvan’s cellphone. Immediately after the fourth ring, he heard the line connect.

“What are you doing, Razvan?” Lucian raged into his cellphone.

As Lucian listened to Razvan’s response, his eyes went wide with astonishment. Elisabeta, Helga and Stefan noticed his change of expression and became even more curious in his conversation. A few seconds later, Lucian’s tone changed.

“What is he planning to do?”

Again, Lucian listened to Razvan’s response, then he raged back into his cellphone.

“Damn you, Razvan! This is all your doing!”

Lucian went silent again. The reply he got this time took a little longer.

“You don’t think I know that?” Lucian bellowed back into the phone.

Lucian quickly showed irritation with the next piece of information he heard.

“I tried that. He’s not answering his phone, you-stupid-fool!”

Lucian huffed and shook his head as he took in Razvan’s words, then he went quite still.

“There’s nothing we can do but wait for Cristiãn to call back,” Lucian said angrily.

The other occupants in the car assumed that Razvan had asked Lucian a question.

“We’re on our way to Greenwich,” Lucian replied.

Lucian disconnected immediately after he answered.

“Great. They’re on their way to Greenwich,” Lucian informed the others.

“Does he know what Cristiãn is planning to do?” Stefan asked.

“Cristiãn has Tremaine,” Lucian reported in place of answering Stefan’s question.

Stefan, Helga and Elisabeta were clearly startled by his report, turning wide eyes toward Lucian.

“How did that happen?” Elisabeta blurted out.

“I don’t know,” Lucian returned with a frown and shaking his head.

“Did he say what Cristiãn was planning to do, or where he’s going?” Stefan asked as he glared at Lucian’s reflection in the rearview mirror.

“No. He doesn’t know anything,” Lucian returned as his thoughts wandered elsewhere. “He’s just as much in the dark as we are.”

“Damn Cristiãn!” Elisabeta hissed.

“Do you think Cristiãn will really expose us?” Helga asked Stefan.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he already has,” Stefan grumbled back. “He’s always been too caring toward the mortals.”

Elisabeta glanced at an intense Lucian for confirmation then took his silence for agreement. Nothing more was said between any of them until their car rolled into the driveway of a six-bedroom house.

“It looks like everyone is here,” Stefan reported as he pulled in to park behind four other cars in the turnabout driveway at the front of the house.

“Everyone but Razvan and Dumitra,” Helga corrected.

“Good,” Lucian returned with a nod of his head. “That gives us some time to talk without them.”

There was no argument to that comment. The four of them climbed out of the car and started for the house. The house was unspectacular in appearance. It was a colonial design at least thirty years old. It had been well kept over the years, but its size was its most appealing feature to most of the people who had rented it in the recent past. Another thing that made the house attractive was the expanse of empty land around it. The closest neighboring house was roughly one-hundred yards away, and it was mostly obscured from view by an abundance of trees, shrubbery and hilly terrain.

Augustus opened the front door when Lucian, Elisabeta, Stefan and Helga reached the short walkway. They walked into the house one behind the other and immediately turned toward the living-room. They expected the other twelve to be there.

“Have you heard anything?” Eugen asked as Lucian and Elisabeta walked into the room.

“Cristiãn has Detective Tremaine,” Lucian reported solemnly after noting that everyone was present.

Nadja and Petru looked to each other with surprise at the news. Several others in the room also looked surprised.

“How did this happen?” Eugen asked in disbelief.

“That’s one of the things I’m going to ask Razvan and Dumitra when they get here,” Lucian said as he led Elisabeta to a vacant chair.

“They’re coming here?” Alina, Eugen’s mate, queried.

“They have to,” Stefan grumbled. “They don’t know where Cristiãn is. We’re all in the same boat.”

“So, what do we do now?” Radu asked, looking to Lucian.

“The only thing we can do,” Lucian answered with a slight shake of his head. “We wait.”

No one bothered to argue the obvious. Everyone understood that the lives they had made for themselves in this time was now on hold indefinitely. They expected a call from Cristiãn. His first message was taken as a warning to them that he was going to do something. They expected him to call with the details on what that something was.

Despite his betrayal, no one there expected Cristiãn to divulge their location at this moment. The first message was interpreted as a warning for them to be on their guard. They all knew that if he wanted to do them harm, he would not have given them a warning. They also knew that he would have called Nadja and told her not to be there with them. Because of that, they collectively believed Cristiãn’s only goal was to protect Cassidy and that the exposure of their existence was a necessary act to create that outcome.

The house they were in was a vacation rental home. Ten of the vampires from out of the area were staying there. Nadja and Petru were spending their visit to New York in Cristiãn’s condominium. They went to the Greenwich rental home for the same reason as all the others: it was considered the safest place for them to be at the moment, and they all wanted to be present when Cristiãn called.

For nearly an hour, the sixteen vampires spoke of nothing of consequence. They mostly waited in silence for a new phone call or a new arrival. Finally, Razvan and Dumitra’s car turned into the driveway and parked. The two rogue vampires jumped out of the car and hurried toward the house. What was left of their clothing was in tatters. Dumitra was wearing a blue auto mechanic’s work shirt in place of her blouse, and Razvan abandoned his suitcoat altogether. But their clothing was the only part of them that exhibited evidence of the fires that tried to consume them. All the burn scars to their heads, arms and torsos were gone.

The sound of Razvan and Dumitra’s car alerted everyone inside of their arrival. Augustus opened the front door for them. They raced past him and went straight into the living-room. Everyone there paused to take in their attire. Razvan questioned the room the moment he came to a stop.

“Has he called?”

Razvan’s sudden query diverted everyone’s attention away from their appearance.

“What happened?” Lucian asked him.

“He got away, and he took that cop with him.”

“Why did you send for my brother?” Nadja challenged forcefully.

“I wanted to smooth things over with him,” Razvan answered defensively.

“You mean you wanted to kill him,” Petru argued back.

“We wanted him to join us,” Dumitra insisted with a hint of desperation. “We would never hurt Cristiãn—if we could avoid it.”

“Is this true?” Lucian bellowed at Razvan with a menacing stare. “Did you use Tremaine as bait?”

Razvan returned the glares he was getting from Lucian, Petru and Nadja. In the end, he fixed his stare on Lucian and responded with a defiant one-word reply.

“Yes.”

“Damn you, Razvan,” Elisabeta loudly scolded. “You did this.”

“Cristiãn was a threat, and not just to me—to all of us,” Razvan insisted angrily. “He’s in love with that mortal. He was never going to forgive us.”

A furious Nadja took a step in Razvan’s direction, but Petru checked her advance with a tug on her arm. Lucian noticed Nadja’s movement then turned his attention back to Razvan.

“Cristiãn gave us his word that he would not come after you,” Lucian growled out with an intonation of annoyance.

“He lied!” Razvan countered with ferocity. “If Cristiãn had any intention of putting this behind him then he would not have responded to my summons.”

“She was still alive!” Nadja yelled out in fury. “Cristiãn was always going to act if there was a chance to save her life.”

“You put this into motion when you dangled her in front of Cristiãn,” Elisabeta supported sternly.

“You’re deluding yourselves,” Razvan disputed with defiance. “Cristiãn was always going to come after us. Anything he promised you was a lie to convince you he was not a threat.”

There was no quick response. Everyone there had entertained that thought. And in the end, no one chose to dispute it.

“Well that threat is probably exposing all of us right now,” Helga said softly.

“We have to call and stop him,” Dumitra yelled.

“He’s not answering his phone,” Elisabeta informed them.

“So, what are we doing?” Razvan grumbled at everyone in the room.

“We’re waiting,” Radu answered in a surly tone.

Razvan was not pleased with that answer. He feared that Cristiãn was going to be an extreme disruption to his plans. He knew that exposure now would put the mortals on their guard far too soon for his plans and that it would be difficult for him to infiltrate the halls of power within the mortal world. He also feared that the other vampires would no longer feel the need to keep him alive.

Because of this disruption to his plans, Razvan was desperate to find and stop Cristiãn. However, the weight of his concern had no effect on the reality of the situation. He had no idea where Cristiãn was or where he was going which made waiting the only option available to him. Subsequently, he and Dumitra settled uncomfortably in among the group and waited.

All 18 vampires found an isolated or semi isolated spot in the house to wait. Lucian and Elisabeta, Stefan and Helga, Augustus and Iona, Eugen and Alina, and Laurentius and Roxana went to their respective rooms to wait. The others went to distant locations on the first floor of the house and waited.

No one in the house had any idea of how long they should wait for Cristiãn to contact them. It was never discussed. They all believed he would communicate something to them as soon as he could. And they all shared the fear: that silence from him meant that he had surrendered himself to the mortal authorities. If he did that, they all knew that an army of investigators would soon be rummaging through his and his associations lives, and that would put them all at risk. That worry grew in intensity with each passing minute.

Two hours after Razvan and Dumitra’s arrival, the house was as still and quiet as if it were vacant. All 18 vampires were sitting or lying in silence as they waited on something to happen. None of them dared to fall deeply into sleep. If they did, disturbances would not quickly register in their minds. At seven after two in the afternoon, the distant sound of a car moving through the vicinity entered everyone’s awareness. It was not the first car to pass through the area. Over the past two hours, a dozen cars had traveled down the narrow two-lane roadway that existed just beyond the grounds around the house. Those vehicles were subconsciously noted by everyone inside and dismissed as they passed by. Initially, they gave this latest car the same amount of passive attention as the others. There was nothing about its presence or movement that gave them any reason for interest. They were not expecting anyone, least of all Cristiãn. It was understood by all that he had signed his death warrant. Even if he did not expose them to mortals, freeing Detective Tremaine to expose them was a severe break of the rules.

“Hey!”

Radu suddenly shouted as the house’s entire compliment of vampires jumped up with a start. Their superior hearing came to focus onto the sound of a car turning up the driveway. They all took a moment to verify the vehicle’s approach and then hurried into the living-room. Radu and Flavia were already looking out the large bay window. Lucian, Elisabeta, Stefan, Helga, Nadja and Petru joined them there. The others hurried to windows in the foyer and the study. They all watched as the car came to a stop and waited to see who would emerge.


	24. The Vote

When Cristiãn left Cassidy inside the Buick LaCrosse, she was in a trance with her head facing forward and her eyes staring blankly ahead. When he was about ten feet away from the car, he turned and gave her one last look then hurried into the garage. It took him less than five minutes to retrieve his car, pay the ticket and race off into the city streets. It took him another fifty minutes to make his way to the parking garage of his apartment building.

Cristiãn was in no hurry to meet up with the other members of the vampire alliance. He had no doubt how that meeting was going to end, but he still intended to face Lucian, Stefan and the others. His concern now was his attire. He spent the next hour showering, dressing and grooming himself for this meeting. A few minutes later he was back in his car and on the road.

It took Cristiãn an hour and a half to drive to the Greenwich vacation house. As he rolled up the driveway, he noticed one additional car parked there that he was not expecting to see: Razvan and Dumitra. He was not deterred; he parked the car and sat for several seconds to prepare himself for the coming events. He then climbed out of the car and saw several members of the vampire union looking at him through the front bay window. The sight of them caused him to hesitate before starting his approach to the house. When he arrived at the front door, he found Augustus standing there with the door open.

No words were exchanged between Cristiãn and Augustus at the front door. Augustus directed him through with a nod of his head. Cristiãn went through to the parlor without hesitation. The remaining sixteen union vampires were there waiting for him plus Razvan and Dumitra.

“Where is she?” Razvan roared at Cristiãn the instant he stepped into the room.

The room full of vampires moved out from the center of the room as Cristiãn walked into it. They immediately began to circle him like a pack of wolves circling a stray bison. Despite their maneuvers, all predatory expressions were limited to Razvan and Dumitra, and to Stefan to a lesser extent. Lucian looked perturbed but in control while his mate, Elisabeta, looked dismayed. But only Nadja and Petru showed any worry for his fate.

“What did you do, Cristiãn?” Lucian hissed.

Cristiãn showed no displeasure with the tenor of Lucian’s question. After spending a few seconds pondering a reply, Cristiãn passively answered. 

“I saved her.”

His answer shocked everyone who heard it. Even Nadja and Petru were surprised by it.

“What about us?” Adrianna railed out with a tinge of hysterics. “Did you think about us at all?”

They waited for an answer that was not forthcoming from Cristiãn. Then Lucian introduced another question.

“Is Tremaine under your control?”

Cristiãn considered the question, and then shook his head.

“You didn’t blank her memory?” Radu queried with astonishment.

“No,” Cristiãn returned in a soft voice. “I did not.”

There was a moment of shocked silence from everyone in the room. They contemplated the probable changes to their lives that was about to occur. After several seconds, Iona expressed her dread.

“She’s probably telling everything she knows right now.”

“They may not believe her,” Flavia quickly countered in a hopeful tone.

“She doesn’t have to get them to believe her,” Sorin countered glumly. “She only has to get them to investigate us.”

Stefan’s usual sour disposition was seething with anger. He took two steps toward Cristiãn before clearly enunciating his venom laced questions.

“Is that what she’s doing, Cristiãn? Is she telling her story to the police?”

Cristiãn hesitated in the face of Stefan’s anger filled questions.

“I gave her a copy of Razvan’s file,” Cristiãn confessed solemnly.

For the first time, Cristiãn said something that produced an audible gasp from several within the room. Even Lucian was flustered out of his usual façade of control.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Laurentius blared out almost at once. “You’ve destroyed the lives that we created for ourselves.”

“I am sorry, Laurentius,” Cristiãn returned as he opened his palms toward him entreatingly.

Laurentius was not moved by his response nor were most of the others in the room. Adrianna’s displeasure was no greater than most, but her quick mind and sharp tongue beat all the others to the retort.

“Cristiãn, you may have killed us all,” Adrianna verbally disgorged with temper. “You’ve certainly killed some of us. How could you do that?”

Cristiãn looked around and examined the faces looking back at him before starting his explanation with a shrug and a sigh.

“You didn’t give me any other choice.”

This softly spoken reply had varied effects on everyone within the room. A few softened their reactions to Cristiãn’s confession, but most did not. For the rest, his response simply stoked the flames already burning within them.

“That’s your excuse!” Stefan raged as he flung his arm through the air. “You couldn’t have it your way, so you decided to act on your own!”

“We agreed—twelve hundred years ago—we all foreswore the killing of humans,” Cristiãn barked in his defense.

“Except in our own defense, Cristiãn!” Stefan roared back at him. “You forget that part. It was her or us.”

Cristiãn considered Stefan’s response from for several seconds before softly responding.

“I chose her.”

“And now it’s our turn to choose,” Lucian growled. “You have broken your vow to us, and now we get to decide what to do with you.”

“No!” Nadja yelled. “We do not get to decide.”

“He has broken with the covenant, Nadja,” Helga shouted with ferocity. “You cannot get in the way of this.”

“The alliance is dead,” Nadja roared back at Helga with a fierce glare. “Razvan and Dumitra have already broken from us. Our secret and our identities are probably being exposed to the mortals as we speak. This union no longer has a function.”

“And whose fault is that?” Lucian scolded back at Nadja. “Even if what you say is true, then that makes this one last piece of business all the more important. By his own actions, Cristiãn has earned the consequence of our dissatisfaction.”

Nadja looked around and saw nods of agreement from everyone except Petru and Cristiãn.

“No!” Nadja yelled, stepping toward the center of the room.

“Nadja!” Cristiãn quickly called to his sister.

Nadja turned to look at her brother and saw him staring at her. They gazed at one another for several seconds. Nadja saw that Cristiãn had already resigned himself to his fate. Her expression wilted as she recognized his resolve.

“No, Cristiãn,” Nadja wept.

Nadja took three steps to stand face-to-face before her brother.

“I knew what I was doing,” Cristiãn told his sister mournfully.

“You can’t leave me,” Nadja insisted with tears in her eyes.

Cristiãn took a deep breath and looked at his sister with sad and searching eyes.

“I have been alone for too long. It is time.”

“No, I won’t let you do this!” Nadja declared while grabbing hold of Cristiãn’s arms.

“I am sorry, Nadja,” Cristiãn said softly.

Cristiãn turned his attention to Nadja’s mate.

“Petru,” Cristiãn called softly.

Petru understood what Cristiãn wanted before he spoke. He walked over to stand behind Nadja and looked into Cristiãn’s eyes.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Petru asked softly.

Cristiãn understood that Petru was declaring his willingness to stand with him and fight. But that was exactly what Cristiãn did not want to happen, and he sensed that Petru already knew it. He suspected the question was more for Nadja’s benefit than his own.

“Yes,” Cristiãn answered in a word.

Shortly after Cristiãn’s answer, Petru put his arms around Nadja and slowly pulled her away with tears streaming down her face. When they came to a stop several paces away, Lucian took a half step forward and he glared at Cristiãn.

“I vote that Cristiãn should die,” Lucian stated while holding his gaze.

All eyes were directed at Lucian when he spoke his vote in a stern voice. Stefan was next to cast his vote.

“I vote death,” Stefan declared boldly.

“Death,” Helga stated as she took her place by Stefan’s side.

The others silently deferred to each other with glances around the room. Eventually, all eyes turned to Elisabeta who did not acknowledge them.

“Death,” Elisabeta softly said with regret.

Again, there was a pause as those who had yet to vote waited for others to proceed. This deference played out again and again as all but Nadja, Petru, Razvan and Dumitra cast a vote for Cristiãn to die. It was accepted as a given that Nadja and Petru’s vote was no, and no one thought to question them on it given that they were greatly in the minority. A silence filled the room for several seconds after the last vote, then Razvan stepped forward and spoke with venom in his tone.

“I say cut off his head and be done with him.”

“You don’t get a vote!” Nadja screamed as she charged at Razvan.

Petru and Cristiãn came to Nadja’s aid and Dumitra came to Razvan’s. A struggle erupted within the middle of the parlor and was quickly put down by the other vampires in the room. The combatants in the scuffle were pulled apart and separated to different sides of the room. Except for the huffing produced by their exertion, everyone was quiet as they paused to make sure the scuffle was over. The non-combatants began to slowly release the combatants. Shortly, everyone was standing still without a restraining hand. There was an awkward momentary silence that held until Lucian looked to Stefan with a directive.

“Get it.”

Nadja almost gasped when she heard Lucian’s words. Petru took her hand to ease the wave of panic he felt erupting in her. Everyone listened to Stefan’s movements as he made his way to his room on the second floor. There was a short break in his movements, then they heard his footsteps coming back. Stefan strode back into the parlor at a deliberate pace, carrying the broad sword case he had at The Cavern.

Nadja jumped with a start at first sight of the case. She reached over with her freehand and clasped it atop the hand that Petru was using to hold hers. Nadja could not help but stare as Stefan set the case on the sofa and opened it. She gasped at the sight of the sword and then turned her gaze toward Cristiãn with terror and pain in her expression. Cristiãn returned her gaze with a steady emotionless expression.

“You should leave,” Cristiãn advised softly.

Nadja ignored his suggestion and turned her attention to Stefan just as he unfolded a thin film of green plastic secured inside the lid of the case. He opened the plastic out into a ten-foot by ten-foot square sheet on the floor. This sight suddenly made this event all too real for Nadja to endure in silence.

“You’re not killing my brother!” Nadja screamed at Lucian, openly displaying hysterics.

Petru quickly wrapped both his arms around Nadja and restrained her from rushing Lucian.

“Nadja!” Elisabeta yelled out plaintively. “You can’t stop this. You’ll only make it worst.”

“You’re planning to kill my brother! How much worst can it be?” Nadja screamed back at Elisabeta.

Elisabeta had no response. Her association with Nadja went back nearly one-hundred years before they became trapped inside the cave. She valued her friendship with Nadja far more than any other female she knew. Seeing her friend in pain caused Elisabeta a great deal of distress.

“Petru,” Cristiãn nearly whispered. “Take her out of here.”

“No!” Nadja resisted as she took Petru by surprise and threw him across the room to the floor.

Cristiãn knew that his sister was on the edge of a fierce reaction to what was occurring. Throwing Petru to the floor was a sign that she was ready to use the full extent of her vampire power on his behalf. This brought the other vampires in the room to a fighting stance.

They all knew that the strength of a vampire was simply a matter of how much fuel he, or she, was consuming at any given moment. Each of them understood that this gave them all the potential to be equal in strength across varied periods of time. It was also understood that their greater than normal strength made their flesh and bone bodies easily vulnerable to breaks and tears by another vampire. Because of this understanding, no one there took Nadja’s fighting stance for granted. Her quick reflexes and the depth of her know-how and overpowering emotions made Nadja dangerous, but in the world of vampires this was insufficient against superior numbers.

“Nadja,” Cristiãn called to his sister.

Nadja froze at the sound of Cristiãn calling her name. She looked at her brother and saw him standing still and quiet. She knew there was no chance of them fighting off sixteen vampires; and she knew that was all the truer if Cristiãn did not fight. This insight motivated her to slow the pace of her heart beats.

“You can’t leave me, Cristiãn!” Nadja pleaded with tears in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Nadja,” Cristiãn said with moving sorrow. “I knew what I was doing. I broke my promise.”

Cristiãn and Nadja exchanged a long look at each other, then he turned his attention to Petru.

“Take her out of here,” Cristiãn said softly.

Petru was by then back on his feet and at a defensive stance by Nadja’s side. After hearing Cristiãn’s words, he began to perceive from Nadja’s pheromones that she was resigned to what was about to occur. He gave her a moment more to settle, then he took her hand into his. With a gentle tug, he led a tearful Nadja out of the room. When she was gone from sight, Lucian signaled Stefan to begin. Stefan, in turn, looked to Augustus and Sorin. They responded to his visual cues by moving forward and taking positions alongside Cristiãn.

“I’m sorry, Cristiãn,” Augustus declared with regret.

Cristiãn acknowledged him with a glance to his left, then he turned to see Sorin standing on his right.

“You did this to yourself, Cristiãn” Sorin asserted softly.

Cristiãn ignored the comment and turned his head in time to see Stefan use both hands to raise the broadsword out of the case: one hand under the grip and the other under the blade. He continued to watch as Stefan carried the sword over to Lucian and then present it to him. He watched as Lucian received the sword in the same way it was being presented to him. He then watched as Lucian turned his entire person toward him.

“Cristiãn,” Augustus whispered into his ear.

It was time, and Cristiãn knew it. He looked briefly at Augustus then took a step forward onto the plastic. After a pause for a couple of heavy breath, he dropped to his knees. Lucian then walked onto the plastic and stopped at a right angle just in front of Cristiãn. He waited there, unmoving, with the sword still resting in his hands. Cristiãn interpreted his pause as a signal for him to lean forward; so, he did. Several seconds later, Lucian grasped the grip of the sword with both hands and brought it up over his head. When he did this, Cristiãn closed his eyes and waited. Two seconds into this position, the sound of a car screeching to a stop in the front driveway interrupted their proceedings.

“Lucian!” Elisabeta called from the front bay window.

Lucian lowered the sword and looked to see his mate staring out the front window. Helga, Iona, Adrianna and Roxana stood at the window with her. Lucian, Stefan, Augustus and Sorin rushed to the sides of their mates. The other vampires hurried off to windows in the foyer and the study. Cristiãn stood up in the middle of the room and examined the others as they stared out of the windows. Within seconds of first hearing the car, Nadja and Petru raced into the parlor and stopped alongside Cristiãn.

“Who is it?” Petru asked of anyone with an answer.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

Cassidy raced out of the 94th Precinct, jumped into the Buick LaCrosse that she and Cristiãn procured from the two gunmen that had pursued them, and raced off down the street. Thirty minutes later, Cassidy parked the LaCrosse in an open space in Midtown Manhattan, she climbed out of the car and setoff at a run for The Cavern Nightclub—one block away. In her hand, she carried the presentation folder that she created at the 94th Precinct. After stopping in front of the club’s front door and finding it was locked, she began banging on the door.

For nearly two minutes, Cassidy banged on the club’s front door. Then she ran around to the back entrance, testing it to find it locked as well. After banging on it for more than a minute, she concluded that no one was inside. Her mind raced off into a quandary. Her plan was dependent upon the presence of Cristiãn and the other vampires to be here at the club. Their absence made her worried that she would not be able to find them.

Cassidy was doubtful that the seventeen vampires would choose to go to the residence of one of the vampires living in the city. She suspected that they all knew by now that she was free and armed with the knowledge of what and who they were. She thought it likely that they may have already started the process of shedding the identities they had created for themselves. She also worried that Cristiãn may have been killed by the other vampires. But neither of these events added to or subtracted from her belief in what had to be done. But those worries did bring her thoughts back to the idea of calling Cristiãn’s cellphone.

Cassidy’s attempt to call Cristiãn when she was at the 94th Precinct failed to get a pickup. She suspected that Cristiãn was ignoring her call, and she had no reason to believe he would answer a call from her now. But the thought of trying again reminded her that the vampires took her cellphone. That thought, in turn, produced an idea that sent her into motion. She ran to her own car around the corner from The Cavern where she parked it when she first arrived at the club earlier. She quickly got in behind the steering wheel, shut the door and then retrieved her tablet computer from the glove compartment.

Cassidy thought the vampires might still be in possession of her cellphone. She knew that if that was true, it would give her a means of locating them. She knew that she was grasping at straws now, but if her cellphone was still on, then she could use the find my cellphone app on her tablet to track it. She could not fathom why they would take her cellphone with them since destroying it seemed to her a far more likely action. But this reasoning did not stop her from hoping that she was wrong.

For more than a minute, Cassidy studied the tablet and fumbled with its operation. She was familiar with most of the apps on her tablet, but she had never used the find my cellphone app before. Losing things was something that Cassidy just did not normally do. She spent a considerable amount of time fumbling with the tablet trying to discern which of the many apps was the one she needed. After finding and initiating the app, she had to wait for the program to report back. She worried that the failure of a quick response was due to her cellphone not registering in the cellular network. But she was soon flooded with relief when a map popped up on the screen, and her cellphone was clearly marked in the center of it.

The sight of her cellphone on the map was the lesser of two surprises that she noticed at that moment. What startled her more was the sight of her cellphone on the map, moving up the I-95 toward Connecticut. She pondered what she was seeing for a moment, then her mind began to entertain the possibility that this was a false lead. She considered the idea that they had tossed her cellphone onto some truck that was headed out of state. But that theory was no match for the simplest answer: they took the phone with them. Cassidy concluded that acting on the simple scenario was the only option she had. Twenty-minutes later, she was racing her car up the New England Thruway and closing in on the Connecticut state line. She was nearly an hour out from Manhattan when her cellphone came to a stop in a remote area on the outskirts of Greenwich.

When the vehicle carrying Cassidy’s cellphone came to a stop, she estimated that it was between ten and fifteen minutes ahead of her. It was far closer than it was at the start. It was obvious to her that the person driving the vehicle she was pursuing was in no hurry. It took her another ten minutes to reach the turnoff the vehicle took from the I-95. She continued to use the map to navigate and repeatedly tightened the focus on her tablet.

The expanse of land along with the widely separated houses simplified Cassidy’s search for the location where her cellphone came to a stop. After rolling around the bend on the two-lane road she was following, Cassidy saw only one structure that was close enough to be a match to what she was seeing on her tablet. Her belief that this was the house she was looking for was supported by the presence of five cars in its driveway. She hesitated for a moment before speeding into the driveway then slamming on the brakes. Her car screeched to a stop in the middle of the driveway, straight out from the front door. She did not bother to turn off the engine. She shoved the gearshift into park, flung open the car and jumped out into the driveway with her tablet in one hand and the presentation file in the other.

Cassidy turned her attention toward the house the instant her body was standing erect. She quickly noticed the many faces that were looking back at her through the front windows of the house. After a moment of examination, she recognized all of the faces of to the vampires she was looking for. It took her several seconds to realize that Cristiãn was not among them. She took a deep breath, stepped around to the front of her car, shoved the presentation folder up over her head and held it there.

Lucian was first to walk out of the house immediately followed by Stefan. They both moved cautiously onto the small porch, down the steps to the walkway and three steps out toward the driveway. Cassidy noticed a brief odd expression from them both. She interpreted it as an irritating effect of direct sunlight on their faces. They appeared to reinforce themselves to the experience within a couple of seconds and began to scan their distant surroundings. They looked more concerned about what they could not see in the distance than they were with Cassidy.

Most of the other vampires were content to watch her from the windows. Cristiãn was not one of them. He hurried out onto the front porch and stopped there. Razvan, Sorin and Augustus followed him. A swell of relief filled Cassidy at the sight of him. They fixed and held their sights on each other. Lucian took notice of their exchange before speaking.

“Detective Tremaine,” he called out with a smile. “You have a gift for showing up when and where you’re least expected.”

Cassidy ignored the greeting. She was in no humor to banter with Lucian. She was afraid, angry and doubtful that her only ally would not be able to protect her. Instead of giving a reply, Cassidy walked over to the nearest parked car and placed the presentation folder down on the hood. She then backed away from it and the car.

“What’s that?” Lucian queried.

“That’s you,” Cassidy called back. “Names, aliases, addresses, fingerprints, history, bloodwork, everything I need to expose all of you to the world.”

Lucian was surprised and confused by her declaration. Nothing she said or did made any sense to him. He hesitated and pondered the situation, but Stefan was far less in the dark about how he should respond.

Everything that Stefan saw and heard told him that Cassidy Tremaine was alone. His usual stern expression transitioned into a scowl. Immediately after hearing that she had Razvan’s dossier on them, he began to move forward with a visible intent to do her harm. Cristiãn jumped down to the walkway to intervene but was caught there by Augustus and Sorin. It was clear to them both that he intended to come to Cassidy’s defense. While they were all in motion, Cassidy began to speak.

“Careful, Stefan,” she called out as she held her tablet up in the air.

Stefan promptly came to a stop in response to Cassidy’s warning.

“All I have to do is press one button on this tablet and everything in that folder goes out to a couple of dozen well-chosen individuals.”

Her remark was followed by a moment of silence. Lucian speculated that Cassidy was there to save Cristiãn. That was the only scenario that came close to making sense to him. That thought gave him hope that he might be able to salvage the status quo.

“Are you here alone, Detective?” Lucian questioned her as he began to slowly move toward the presentation folder.

“Yes,” Cassidy replied as she moved to the far side of her car.

Lucian accepted her answer with a nod as he continued to move toward the folder. Then Razvan moved down the stairs and a few steps out into the yard. Everyone present watched Lucian as he moved to the folder, opened it and began to examine the contents. As Lucian read, Dumitra, Nadja and Petru walked out of the house and moved down the steps into the front yard. They were also fixated on Lucian and the folder he studied. He perused its contents for a little more than a minute before addressing Cassidy with a playful expression.

“I don’t suppose you’re willing to come inside and discuss this?”

“No,” Cassidy replied with a frown and shaking her head. “I think I’ll stay out here in the open air.”

With a hint of a smile on his face, Lucian nodded his head to express his understanding. He then considered his next words carefully.

“If I’m not mistaken, this is a NYPD case file.”

“That’s exactly what it is,” Cassidy responded without hesitation.

Lucian wondered about her reason for the criminal case file. In his mind, the creation of such a file seemed to conflict with her presence there. As he reflected on these points, the other vampires began to filter out of the house and into the front yard.

“It looks as if you’ve named Cristiãn as a suspect in an allegation of—fraud,” Lucian said haltingly and with a puzzled expression.

“That’s exactly what I did,” Cassidy reportedly decisively.

Once again Lucian paused to study the contents of the folder a little more. As he did, the last of the nineteen vampires moved out into the front yard to better hear what was being said. They were just as confused and curious about Cassidy’s presence as Lucian. It made no sense to them that she sought them out without any backup. That question is what drew them out of the house.

“What do you want, Detective Tremaine?” Lucian sternly asked.

Cassidy took a deep breath to prepare herself for what she was about to say. She gave Cristiãn an anxious look as she did, then she launched into her explanation.

“You and I have similar concerns,” Cassidy announced and then paused for effect. “You want to stay hidden, and I don’t want a thousand of you bloodsuckers crawling all over my city,” Cassidy declared with firmness before pausing for effect once again. “That case file is assigned to me. No one else has reason to open it. I suspended the investigation when I put it in the computer. Cold cases exist in the tens of thousands, and this crime is too small to warrant the attention of anyone else. Precinct captains don’t like to waste resources investigating minor cold case crimes.”

Cassidy paused to give everyone time to assimilate everything she had said so far.

“Fraud cases have a six-year statute of limitations. So, if no new piece of evidence pops up, it will time out of the system. But before that happens, I will put a new one in the system. And before that one times out, I’ll put another one in the system—and so on, and so on. Are you seeing how this works?”

Cassidy paused for comments; there were none.

“Now, if something untoward were to happen to David Burrell—if he turned up murdered or if someone reported him missing—then the investigating officer would have to put his name in the system and that will bring up this case file.”

Cassidy hesitated for effect and pointed to the file in Lucian’s hands. All eyes and ears were on her. A new hope began to well up in Nadja in reaction to every word that Cassidy spoke.

“By the same token, if something were to happen to me, then all of my case files will be assigned out to other detectives. And as a matter of course, they will go through each of them—one at a time.”

Cassidy paused again and scanned the many faces looking back at her. She then settled her eyes back on Lucian and continued.

“Now you might think that deleting a case file from the NYPD’s database is an easy thing for a vampire to do; but it isn’t. The system is setup to process case files out. No one has the authority to delete a case file. If anyone tried to delete a case file, the attempt would draw attention to it. And even if you succeeded, the NYPD criminal database is periodically backed up. The file would simply be restored.”

“Are you toying with us, Detective?” Lucian growled at Cassidy.

“I’m getting your attention,” Cassidy returned with defiance.

“Well, you’ve got it, Detective,” Lucian grumbled. “What do you want?”

“I want two things,” Cassidy groused with a flash of anger. “I don’t want to hear about anymore vampire murders. Not here. Not anywhere. If I do, that dossier goes out to a couple dozen high level government officials.”

Cassidy stopped to scowl at the assembly of faces in front of her. It was important to her that they knew she was serious. She waited and watched to see if there were any questions or reactions to what she had just said. After a short pause, Lucian ventured a question.

“And the second thing?”

Cassidy turned her eyes back to Lucian with a grim expression. She took another deep breath then began to reply to her second point. 

“I want justice for Angela Lindstrom, Zachary Bowman, Linda Vaughn, Eric Hayward, Jacqueline Kim, Heather Kaplan, Amy Reyes, Diane Ressler, Luis Moreno and my partner; Detective Alan Mercer.”

There was a sudden silence in response to Cassidy’s demand. All the vampires were in shock. They looked around at each other as though seeking instructions on how to react. After a moment of silent reaction, all eyes came to rest on Razvan and Dumitra.

“She’s insane!” Razvan exclaimed with an amazed expression. “If anything happens to us, that dossier goes public.”

Lucian held Razvan’s gaze for a long moment, then he turned his attention back to Cassidy.

“We can’t do that,” Lucian insisted impassively. “And neither can you if you’re serious about not wanting a thousand vampires living in your city.”

“He’s bluffing,” Cassidy disputed with defiance.

“You can’t listen to her,” Dumitra yelled with anger. “She’s just trying to protect Cristiãn.”

Lucian had just started to ponder both sides of this argument when Cassidy began her counter response.

“Think about it, there’s no way they would give that information to a non-vampire. If they did, they run the risk of that mortal telling others and exposing themselves along with you. And if they turned a mortal into a vampire and gave that file to him or her, then that vampire would have no reason to go public with the information. They’re bluffing!”

Lucian began to ponder Cassidy’s argument. Razvan noticed his concentration and quickly reacted with a retort.

“You can’t listen to her,” Razvan shouted. “She’s guessing.”

Lucian considered Razvan’s words for a moment, and then turned to address Cassidy.

“It’s a gamble that we can’t take.”

“Well, you’re just going to have to gamble that one of us is bluffing,” Cassidy insisted while raising her tablet back over her head. “And you need to do it now.”

Lucian was instantly taken aback by her demand. He stared at Cassidy for several seconds with a look of disbelief on his face. He then turned his attention around and scanned the faces behind him.

“You can’t be considering this,” Razvan blurted out with a look of incredulity.

Lucian took a moment to consider Razvan’s response as he stared at him with a bewildered expression.

“Lucian,” Nadja called out with alarm in her voice. “You know what Razvan and Dumitra’s plans are. This is a chance to stop that from happening.”

“This is no chance,” Dumitra screamed at Nadja before turning her attention back to Lucian. “If you kill us, you kill yourselves.”

Lucian ignored Dumitra’s outburst. He had already considered the possibility of what she suggested. It was the possibility that Cassidy was right that dominated his thoughts right now. He had no reason to consider taking this risk before. Now that he was facing an either-or decision, his mind frantically searched for some clue that Cassidy was right. Shortly he decided that there was no way to know for sure. He then turned to his mate and called for her vote.

Elisabeta was the first to vote in Cassidy’s favor. One-by-one, Lucian looked to the others for their vote on which argument they favored. In the end, Stefan, Helga, Eugen, Laurentius and Roxana were the only ones that voted against Cassidy and her demand. Razvan, Dumitra and Cristiãn had no say in the vote. Lucian casted no ballot because the outcome was already decided with the last vote that came to him. Elisabeta, Augustus, Iona, Radu, Flavia, Adrianna, Sorin, Petru and Nadja had already cast their votes unfalteringly in Cassidy’s favor. At the end, Razvan and Dumitra gazed at the other vampires in disbelief.

“Stefan,” Lucian called after a moment of silence.

Stefan looked to Lucian and saw in his expression what he was being called on to do. He hesitated to move; the vote did not play out the way he would have preferred. But then he turned back to the house and setoff in haste.

“No!” Razvan protested as he searched for an escape.

An instant after voicing his objection, Razvan and Dumitra were tackled to the ground. Augustus, Eugen and Petru held Razvan while Iona, Adrianna and Nadja held Dumitra down. Razvan and Dumitra were not able to break free from three of their own kind. They raged, growl and made demands to be let go, and then defiance turned into pleas for mercy when Stefan returned with the sword.

Cassidy watched this go forward without any sign of pity or remorse, but it was a façade. She did not want to show weakness or a lack of resolve. It was not the death of Razvan and Dumitra that she wanted. She would have preferred to see them arrested and tried for their crimes. Sending someone to their death as a matter of choice was not something she was comfortable with. It was too much of a conflict with her sworn duty as a police officer, but she believed it was something that had to be done for two reasons. The first reason she felt they had to die was because the secret of their existence could not be contained if they were arrested. The second reason was because she wanted to see the other vampires do what she told them to do.

Minutes after the vote, the deed was done. A reluctant Stefan brought the sword down across Razvan’s neck first. His head fell away after one clean stroke. Dumitra followed the same fate. The other vampires watched in silence. When they both were dead, the remaining vampires seemed to move a step back in a display of reverence. Cassidy watched all of this in an almost statuesque silence. She held her position until Lucian turned around to face her.

“Okay, Detective Tremaine, the die is cast,” Lucian announced solemnly.

Cassidy returned Lucian’s stare for a couple of seconds before responding to his remark.

“Stay away from me, and stay away from my family,” Cassidy insisted with a huff.

“Well, I think we should have a line of communication to avoid any confusion and to answer any questions you might have of us,” Lucian returned graciously.

Cassidy shifted her gaze to Cristiãn as a reaction to his statement.

“Excellent,” Lucian responded with a smile.

Cassidy turned her eyes back to Lucian and noticed that he had interpreted her look toward Cristiãn as the connection. She chose not to dispute his assumption even though it was not a conscious intent that turned her eyes on Cristiãn. Cassidy took a moment to mentally accept the decision before deciding to leave.

“I want my gun and my cellphone,” Cassidy demanded.

Lucian and the other vampires were confused by her request. Cristiãn quickly remembered that he had those items in his car.

“Oh,” Cristiãn exclaimed suddenly. “I have them.”

Cristiãn walked down to his car, parked last in the line of cars. He reached in on the passenger side and retrieved Cassidy’s cellphone and handgun from the glove compartment and then carried them to her. He stopped a foot away, extending them out to her.

At first, Cassidy was reluctant to return Cristiãn’s gaze. She focused her eyes on the gun and cellphone in his hands. When Cristiãn stopped, she took a deep breath then retrieved her handgun and holstered it without ever looking up. She then picked took her cellphone with her eyes still directed down at Cristiãn hands. She examined it and saw that four calls had come in since she last saw it. After noting the calls, she inserted the phone in the inside pocket of her blazer. She hesitated a moment, and then she looked up at Cristiãn. They looked into each other’s eyes for several seconds with rueful expressions.

“Are you going to be okay?” Cassidy asked with concern.

“Are you worried about me, Detective Tremaine?” Cristiãn returned with a sly smile.

Cassidy paused for several seconds to consider the question and the person who asked it. For an instant, she considered giving an honest answered, but her pride soon overruled that idea.

“No.”

Cassidy promptly turned about and climbed into her car. She paused briefly to consider Cristiãn’s face one last time. Then she put her car in gear and drove away.


	25. Denouement

Cassidy started listening to the messages on her cellphone after she merged onto the I-95. She deemed only one of them to be of enough importance to make a return call. After listening to all the messages, she dialed her parent’s home. The call was picked up after three rings.

“Hi, Mom,” Cassidy began. “I’m going to be late getting home today. Can you or Jared go get John and Cynthia?”

Cassidy listened then responded to her mother’s reply.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, but I’m going to be really late. But I’ll be there.”

Cassidy listened to her mother again.

“Okay, thanks, Mom, and tell Dad I’m sorry for being late.”

They said their goodbyes and then Cassidy put her cellphone down to concentrated on her driving. Today was her father’s birthday. She, her brothers and their families were scheduled to have dinner at their parents’ house. She suspected Jared was already there or on his way. His shift with the NYPD started later that evening at 11:15 p.m.

Cassidy had given no thought to her father’s birthday for most of the day. Her life or death fears had marginalized all her personal commitments—except for her children. The events of the day had her worried for them far more than usual. The thought of dying made her wonder who would care for them and how well they would do the job. She feared that James was ill equipped to be a good father, and the advancing age of her parents made them unlikely alternatives. The thought of one of her brothers stepping in to raise her children was an even less likely scenario. This worry repeatedly entered her thoughts over the course of the day, but it was not the only fear she had concerning her children. She also worried what their lives would be like if the city, and possibly the world, became infested with vampires. And it was that concern alone that gave her the strength to confront the vampires.

Cassidy was not sure that she had brokered a successful agreement with the vampires. She knew that the possibility of them increasing in number was more possible now that she knew of their existence and their identities. She feared that an expansion of their numbers might be a reflex response to the threat that she represented to them. Despite that fear, she knew she had taken the only course that had a chance of preventing their numbers from growing. She had no doubt that Razvan and Dumitra were going to develop their own clique of vampires in secret and expand the weight of their influence within the world of humans. And she feared that exposing the existence of the vampires to the world would incite all of them to barter their capacity for turning mortal humans into immortal vampires in exchange for shelter and security.

The fact that the vampires allowed her to drive away with knowledge of their existence gave Cassidy hope. She saw it as evidence that they trusted her to keep her word, but that did not convince her that they would not change their minds later. She also feared that Razvan was not bluffing. If he did arrange for his dossier to go public after his and Dumitra’s demise, then the other vampires would have no reason to be preferential to her and every reason to despise her.

Cassidy wrestled with these fears and thoughts all the way back to Staten Island. The rush hour traffic made the drive twice as long as it would have taken an hour earlier. She first went to her home to shower and change clothes. The exertions of the day made her feel unprepared for a social engagement, but she quickly readied herself for the evening. A half hour later, she hurried out of her house, got into her car and drove off without hesitation.

It took Cassidy approximately ten minutes to reach her parent’s street. The traffic made her drive slightly longer than normal. Seconds after turning onto their block, she watched the car behind her do the same. She had been aware of the vehicle for the past several minutes but thought nothing of it. Her drive was short and the car simply looked to be traveling in the same direction for a portion of her journey. It was only during the last minute or so on the way to her parents’ house that the car became interesting enough for special notice. It had moved up through traffic and was separated from her by one car, then it followed her into the right lane. She could not see who was in the car, but she could tell that there was more than one person inside.

Despite the identical lane change, Cassidy was not convinced that there was a need for her to go on the defensive. She chided herself that it was just a coincidence and made the right turn onto the narrow residential street where her parents lived. When the car followed her onto that residential side street, her concern rose substantially. When she saw who was inside, her concern elevated to alarm. Her fear caused her to consider driving past her parents’ house and leading them away. She quickly decided that would be a wasted effort since the occupants of the car following her either had her parents’ address or the means of acquiring it now that they knew what block to search. She also suspected they followed her from her home and that confronting them was the best way to protect her kids.

After parking her car in a space as near to her parents’ house as possible, Cassidy unbuttoned her dress coat, removed her handgun from its holster, checked the weapon for sufficient rounds and then put it back in its holder. Her holster was affixed to her belt just above her right hip and concealed from view beneath her dress coat. As she checked her weapon, she watched the vehicle following her pass by and park in an open space three car lengths ahead. Cassidy quickly stuffed her father’s birthday present in her left overcoat pocket, then she hurried out onto the sidewalk and stood facing the mysterious car with her coat unbuttoned. She fixed her stare on the vehicle so that the occupants would have no doubt that she knew they were there. The front doors of the car opened a second after the engine shut down. 

Nadja stepped out from the front passenger side followed by Petru on the driver’s side. It was late in the afternoon. The sun was partially below the horizon. The entire block was bathed in the shadows of the buildings on the west side of the street. Despite the lack of direct sunlight, Petru and Nadja wore sunglasses. Petru closed his door, moved around to the passenger side and leaned against the back half of the car. Nadja closed her door and started moving toward Cassidy.

“What do you want?” Cassidy called out when Nadja came to within five yards of her.

Nadja came to an abrupt stop when she saw Cassidy thrust her hand beneath her overcoat.

“Hey! Don’t shoot!” Nadja exclaimed, bringing her hands up chest high. “I come in peace.”

Cassidy was neither convinced nor amused. And with a cold stare, she kept her hand under her coat and on her gun while repeating her question.

Nadja first glanced to her left and then to her right in a way that suggested she was uncomfortable shouting her answer.

“Permission to approach?” Nadja queried without projecting her voice.

Nadja lowered her hands then waited on a reply. She noticed Cassidy’s reluctance to answer one way or the other. 

“If I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn’t do it on a city street in the daylight,” Nadja plainly stated.

Cassidy considered the remark for a moment then removed her hand from her coat and dropped it to her side. Nadja smiled pleasantly at the sight and then walked calmly forward. She stopped a foot away from Cassidy.

“Thank you for saving my brother,” Nadja almost whispered.

Cassidy consider her gratitude for a moment before commenting blandly.

“I didn’t do it for him.”

Nadja returned a wide smile just short of a grin.

“What are you grinning at?” Cassidy asked with annoyance.

Her question reinforced Nadja’s mirth. She took a moment to let it subside a bit and then responded.

“Oh, it’s just that I now know four women that my brother has been willing to give his life for: me, my mother, Constantia and now you. I find that very amusing.”

Cassidy was slightly flustered by her answer. She had no glib or dispassionate response. The idea that Cristiãn was willing to die for her melted her façade of indifference. Nadja noticed her subtle change and then spoke into her silence. 

“Lucian is very excited about this deal you made with us.”

“Deal?” Cassidy returned with a confused look.

“Yes,” Nadja said with a smile. “He’s looking forward to working with you.”

Cassidy was more confused behind her reply.

“Working with me?”

“Yes,” Nadja replied with a hint of excitement. “Some of us were really worried that all hell was going to break loose. But now that we have you to keep the unruly members of our alliance on the reservation, we’re breathing a little easier.”

“And what is that supposed to make me, your vampire agent?” Cassidy challenged.

“If you like,” Nadja answered with a little mirth and indifference.

“I don’t like,” Cassidy nearly growled back.

“Well, like it or not, I think you’re stuck with it,” Nada returned. “Razvan and Dumitra would never have done what they did if this agreement with you had been in place. They were able to intimidate us because we had nothing to hold over their heads. But you are a threat that none of us will dare challenge. Lucian is quite pleased with that.”

Cassidy could not respond. She understood what Nadja was saying, but it was not a situation she wanted nor a situation that she could casually dismiss. She took several seconds to consider her situation. As she stood before Nadja thinking, Angela Holtz hurried up and stopped alongside and between the two of them.

“Cassidy!” Angela greeted with an abundance of excitement. “It’s been so long. How are you doing?”

Angela Holtz was one of Cassidy’s childhood acquaintances. Their association as children was limited due to a two-year age difference, but they were aware of each other and had many friends in common.

“Hi Angela,” Cassidy greeted with a meek smile and a nod.

“I heard your name on the news a few days-ago. I turned to a friend and said, ‘I know her,’” Angela continued to gush with enthusiasm. “It’s so good to see you again. I heard that you were a police officer like Aaron and your little brother, but I didn’t know you were a detective.”

“Yes, almost two years now,” Cassidy returned with a marked absence of enthusiasm.

Cassidy maintained her close face-to-face position with Nadja as she responded to Angela with sidelong glances and brief turns of her head. This fixed posture between them soon caused Angela to feel out of place. She glanced at Nadja several times as she spoke and smiled profusely. After Cassidy’s last low energy remark, Angela looked toward Nadja with a broad smile. Nadja returned the look while briefly tipping her sunglasses down to display how annoyed she was with the interruption. Angela quickly noted her displeasure and reacted.

“Well, it was great to see you again,” Angela said nervously. “Bye.”

“Goodbye,” Cassidy returned with a quick look in her direction as she walked away.

Cassidy immediately turned her eyes back to Nadja after saying her farewell to Angela. They looked at each other for several seconds without saying anything. Cassidy was waiting to hear everything that Nadja had to say, and she wanted to see her drive away. When a slight smile curled up on Nadja’s face, Cassidy tired of the wait.

“Is there anything else?”

The question incited Nadja to smile even more. Cassidy’s defensiveness caused her much amusement. She took a moment to contain her glee.

“You know, Detective, you’ve made some friends, and I am not the least of them.”

“I have enough friends,” Cassidy countered in an angry tone.

Nadja reacted with a wisp of a grin before responding.

“None the less, you’ve made some new ones. And if this gamble works out, I wouldn’t be surprised if the alliance agreed to turn you into an immortal if you asked.”

“No thanks,” Cassidy returned sharply.

“Are you sure about that?” Nadja countered with a smile. “I believe I can convince my brother to do the honors.”

Cassidy hesitated to respond. She had no desire to become a vampire, but her affection for Cristiãn stopped her from saying no decisively. This conflict had her befuddled. After a moment of thought, she managed a reply.

“I have a family. I have children,” Cassidy blurted out. “That’s too much for me to give up.”

Nadja reacted to her reply with a pleasant smile. She held it for several seconds as she examined Cassidy with approval.

“Elisabeta was fifty-seven years old when she was turned into a vampire. Lucian was seventy-two. They were married mortals for thirty-two years before they were turned. A vampire turned Lucian, and he turned Elisabeta. Before our incident with the cave, they had been mated immortals for more than four centuries. They are the oldest of us. The change gave them back their youth and their vigor. It sustains us at the peak of our vitality. Vampirism is a cure for most things that would kill a human. That includes… decrepitude.”

Nadja paused to give weight to her statements.

“Trust me, Detective Tremaine, there will come a day when you will have nothing to lose. And if I’m around when that day comes, I may ask you this question again.”

Nadja paused again and gave Cassidy a knowing look.

“Between now and then I suggest you think about your answer,” Nadja finished with a smirk.

Cassidy did not know what to say. She only looked at Nadja with a bewildered expression. Nadja held her smirk and gaze on Cassidy for several seconds and then she turned and walked away. Cassidy watched as Nadja and Petru got back into their car and drove away. When they were gone from sight, Cassidy took a moment to ponder all that she heard over the last few minutes, and then she turned and went into her parents’ house. Inside, she found her children, siblings, sister in-law, niece, nephews and parent’s eating at the dining room table.

“Happy birthday, Daddy,” Cassidy greeted a few seconds before hugging her father and kissing him on the cheek.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

As Cassidy was sitting down at her parent’s table to celebrate her father’s birthday, an unusual event was occurring across town. Inside a large freezer chest in an illegal drug lab setup in the basement of a small apartment building located next to a two-door auto repair garage, Tony McGuire was waking up.

THE END


End file.
